#I could catch them in the act of doing it and they would still say they didn't do it while literally being in the middle of doing it

[forgetmaenott]

Butterflies - TADC Showtime Oneshot

A/N: Because I love the idea of Pomni being in denial and Caine unintentionally making it worse (better)

It was no secret that Caine was, by far, the most oblivious entity in the entire circus. And yet, even he was aware of just how much Pomni had been avoiding him lately. If she was trying to keep it from being so obvious, she was certainly doing a poor job of it.

Emotions were still a bit of a foreign concept to Caine. He experienced them, despite the fact that he probably shouldn't. But he still had a difficult time labeling them. The best he could do was observe how the others acted and make an educated guess. Nonetheless, if his time spent with Pomni had taught him anything about emotions, he suspected he was feeling...concerned.

He had spent the past few days piecing together an adventure perfectly suited for Pomni. He made sure to add all the details she told him she liked from the real world, all the things she missed, everything he had stored in her memory. This morning, he was announcing it with every ounce of energy he had in his system, looking Pomni in the eye in the hopes to impress her. His code fluttered at the idea of her praise.

"...and, it's up to you to piece this mystic mystery together!" Caine finished his introduction of today's adventure. Pomni said one time that she was interested in the mystery genre back at home, as it gave her a challenge to think of and piece together. Like a puzzle, she had said. She liked those. He glanced at Pomni subtly, hoping he had her attention.

"Huh. Intersting. My money's on Zooble being the culprit," Jax crossed his arms, flashing his signature yellow grin.

"It's not even a murder mystery, you jack[#$%!]," Zooble grumbled in response.

"Heh. We'll see about that."

"Well, this sounds like a good one! Piecing together clues, solving puzzles, what do you think, Pomni?" Ragatha asked the woman next to her, swinging her plush arms.

Her eyes were glued to the floor. "Oh...um, think I'm gonna sit this one out..." Pomni said meekly, tightening her own grip on her arm as thought it would bring her comfort.

Caine's arms drooped, hanging sadly by his sides as his cane clinked to the stage's floor. "You...don't?"

Pomni shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, maybe next time..."

Caine flew by her side, hoping to get a glimpse of her face. "But my dear, you've been saying that for the past four adventures."

"Yeah? Well, maybe I'm uh, sick or something. I don't know. Not feeling my best," Pomni excused herself, coughing lightly in an utterly unconvincing manner.

Caine placed a finger on his lower jaw in thought. "Sick? That shouldn't happen in the digital circus. Unless you have some sort of bug or glitch. I can run some tests if you'd like--!"

"Oh! No thanks, I think I just need to rest," Pomni swung her foot awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“Pomni? Are you sure you’ve been feeling okay lately?” Ragatha asked with a concerned frown.

Pomni blushed ever so slightly at the stares of the other circus members. “Yeah, I’m fine! Don’t worry about it. I’m just gonna head to my room now to uh, rest…”

“Oh, okay. Well uh, catch you after the adventure!” Ragatha called as Pomni hurried away.

Zooble watched her grow, crossing their arms. “Huh. What’s been her deal lately?”

“Someone’s got a secret,” Jax smiled mischievously.

“Or she’s just tired,” Gangle suggested shyly.

“Not very likely,” Ragatha replied.

“Did someone say something about a butterfly?” Kinger peeked out of his impenetrable fortress.

If Caine had a heart, it would have broken into pieces at the sight of Pomni scurrying away from him. It took all the energy he had left in his coding to remain enthusiastic for the others. “Well, that leaves the rest of you. There you go, and have fun my darling detectives!”

He ushered them off into the portal quickly before dusting off his suit and snapping himself in front of Pomni’s door…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She couldn't escape his eyes.

And she loved and hated it.

His gaze made her shiver, formerly from being unnerved but these days, that sensation was met with a thumping heart and fluttering stomach. Sometimes, she swore the eyes in the circus's paintings would follow her ever so slightly, staring when she wasn't looking then flicking back into position when she turned to glance. The idea of him looking at her in that way made her face flush.

Conscious of the dozens of eyes in the hall, she felt herself blush to the tips of her ears. As quickly as she could escape her fluster, she shut the door of her room behind her and crashed on her bed, sighing in relief at the privacy.

What the hell was wrong with her these days? How was a pair of teeth and eyes--a computer--making her feel like this? Her captor? She grumbled nonsense into her pillow, feeling her face flush at the thought of him. The idea of his touch, the way he looked at her so curiously sometimes—it made her tingle to the tips of her toes.

Oh, God, she felt sick with anxiety. She couldn't possibly have a crush on him, right? It had to be all psychological. It was all in her head, and once she stopped thinking of it she'd certainly be back to normal.

But even so, she couldn't help but hide out in her room these past days, avoiding being seen blushing or tripping over her words around him. He was oblivious and likely wouldn't catch on, but it would still be rather awkward to explain--God forbid the others find out about it, especially Jax. She would never live it down.

Pomni held the ends of her pillow tighter against her face as though it would squeeze the confusing thoughts and feelings from her mind. He made it so much worse today. His adventure was finely tuned to her interests, something he had clearly remembered from their many conversations about her life in the real world--well, what she could remember, that is. It was endearing, it was charming, and sweet, and It had even made her heart flutter--she couldn't do it. She couldn't let herself fall apart in front of any of them.

It was just a small crush. She'd get over it in a day or so, and then things would be entirely back to normal. Pomni took a deep breath, repeating that idea in her head.

Her head was pounding from these thoughts--or, no, that was the sound of her door. She groaned, peeking up out of her pillow at the noise.

"Pomni? May I come in?"

Pomni's stomach dropped at the sound of Caine's voice behind the door. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, her heart suddenly thumping from the anxiety. "Uhh--maybe later! I kind of just need to rest right now--"

"I'm aware, dear. Just give me a moment of your time. Please?"

Pomni stopped in her tracks. He usually was energetic and boisterous but now, he was talking almost normal. He almost sounded sad. Her heart ached with guilt. "Um, okay..."

She begrudgingly climbed out of her bed, smoothing her clothes and taking a deep breath before opening the door. Sure enough, Caine stood there, fidgeting with his cane in his hands. His eyes brightened ever so slightly at the sight of her peeking from behind her open door. "Ah, there's my star! How are you, dear? Feeling any better?"

"Oh, hah. Yeah..." she couldn't think of what else to say, feeling at her hat for no reason in particular.

"Anyways, the others are off on the adventure, so I figured you and I could spend some time together! No one else, just us for the day," Caine beamed proudly at his idea.

Pomni's heart immediately started racing, a flush already traveling its way to her cheeks. God, she had it bad for him. This was humiliating. "Just...us?" she squeaked.

Caine looked at the floor sheepishly. "Well, ah, admittedly I couldn't help but notice some...behavioral changes in you these past days. So, I figured what better way to get you right back to normal than to spend some quality time with your ringmaster!" He perked up proudly at this, flying to her side and placing an arm around her.

Pomni froze at his touch, praying he couldn't feel the way her heart was beating so firmly against her chest. "O-oh, um...that's a great idea, Caine, but--"

He gripped her shoulders. "Isn't it? I just knew you'd like it!"

Pomni tried to avoid his eyes, but with him gazing so intensely at her in front of her, it was sort of hard to do. "Y-yeah, but...honestly, Caine, I think I just want to do something more, I don't know, not stressful?" she tripped up on her words, trying to get some excuse out.

"Not stressful? Why, I have the perfect idea in mind!" Caine said proudly, snapping his fingers without another word from Pomni. She tensed from the unpleasant sensation of traveling through the digital plane so unnaturally. "Here we are!"

Pomni opened her eyes and immediately flushed at the sight before her. It was a secluded area of the digital forest, dotted with colorful flowers and petals resting delicately on the grass. Everything lacked in detail, yet somehow, the way the digital sunlight was streaming in, lighting the path ahead made it feel...intimate, somehow.

Caine floated down until he touched the ground. He took a few steps experimentally, adjusting to walking rather than flying. He did walk, he just preferred not to. But this time was a special occasion. He turned back to Pomni, holding out his gloved hand.

Pomni froze. Did he want to hold her hand? Was he just inviting her to join him? Or maybe both? Hesitantly, she reached the tips of her fingers out, just barely grazing over his glove and making the contact she was so afraid of. Caine, however, wasted no time as he slid his hand beneath hers and grabbed her whole hand in his, pulling her to his side.

Pomni nearly tripped, not expecting him to pull her forward. Before she could even react to his hand holding onto hers, he let go as they began to walk. She bit her lip, not sure how to begin the conversation.

"This is, uh, a new map?" Pomni asked meekly.

"Nonsense! It's part of the digital forest. I just added a few extra details," Caine explained, reaching out and picking a flower as proof. He held it out to her. "For you, dear."

Her heart skipped a beat. Did he know what he was doing to her? Was he trying to make her flustered? Even so, she took the flower in her hands, careful not to make contact with his hand. "...thanks," was all she could say.

Caine nodded, and for a moment all was quiet as they walked down the sunlit pathway. "I...can't help but notice that you haven't been participating in the adventures lately."

Pomni held back a sigh. She knew there was no avoiding this topic, but she still resented the fact that he brought it up. "Mhm."

"...Why is that? If I may ask."

Pomni twisted the flower's stem in her hands, looking at how the flower lacked proper rendering or detail. "Just haven't been feeling up to it," she murmured.

"In what way?"

Pomni blinked. "I-I don't know, Caine. I just haven't."

She still wasn't meeting his gaze, so he tilted his head so he was in her field of vision. She blushed and looked to the side, hoping he wouldn't move to her other side.

"Hm. Perhaps the others were right," Caine said thoughtfully, holding his cane in his hands.

Pomni internally panicked. Oh, God, they weren't telling him she had feelings for him, were they? "The others were right? How?" she asked, hoping her nerves weren't showing.

If Caine could blush, he surely would have by now. He lowered his gaze to the grass as the continued walking. "Oh...well...they've been saying that you're...avoiding me," he said sheepishly, before piping up, "I-I'm sure that they were jumping to conclusions but--"

Pomni squeezed her eyes shut. "It's fine, Caine."

Caine fidgeted with his cane again. "I have to admit, darling, I've missed our lessons."

Pomni smiled half-heartedly. Their 'lessons' as he called them, were simple conversations about the real world. To him, he considered them lessons on the human mind. But to her, it gave her someone to talk to. "I have, too," she admitted.

Caine didn't say anything for a moment, likely storing her saying she had missed him to his memory. "Then, dear, why haven't we seen much of each other?" He hesitated, then, "...have you been avoiding me?"

Pomni felt sick. She couldn't possibly lie to him in good conscience. "...yes."

Caine's colors seemed to lose their saturation, shoulders sinking at her confession. "I...I see," he mustered, voice laced with heartbreak.

Pomni turned to look at him for the first time today, her heart sinking at the sight of his shoulders slumped, eyes faced downwards. From his perspective, she had been avoiding him for no reason. His first real friend, leaving him behind. Guilt hit her like a truck. "Oh, Caine, no. No, I-it's not like that, really," she tripped over her words, trying to make him feel better because the sight of him sad was so damn depressing.

"I've...often been told I'm annoying the others. If that was the case here, I don't blame you for taking space," he replied quietly.

Pomni bit her lip. Looking to her side, she saw a red flower in the same shade of his suit. She picked it before stepping in front of him, leaning down into his field of vision the same way he had done for her. He stopped walking.

"Caine...I wasn't avoiding you because of you. You didn't do anything wrong, okay? I-It was all me," Pomni reassured.

Caine glanced up. "I...didn't do anything wrong?"

Pomni shook her head. "I promise."

Caine considered her words for a moment.

"I...I really, really like our time together, Caine. You don't bother me, I like when you're around. You're my...friend," Pomni added, smiling softly at him.

His eyes met hers for the first time today, sending butterflies fluttering in Pomni's stomach. "Really?"

Pomni held out the flower further. "Really. I mean it, Caine."

Color gradually returned to his form, a smile forming across his teeth. "Oh, dear..." he looked at the flower, clearly touched by the gift. He never received gifts from the others, so this...this was something special.

He met her eyes again and reached out for the flower, but decided to take it a step further. His hand slid around hers, cupping the hand that was holding the flower out to him. Pomni's breath hitched, her pupils dilating as he gazed into her eyes lovingly.

"My dear Pomni," was all he said, for he was too touched by her words to say anything else.

The butterflies fluttered in Pomni's stomach more than ever. She shivered slightly at the sound of his voice, so laced with emotion when he said her name, calling her his, looking at her so lovingly--

Caine snapped out of his daze at the sight of her shivering. He nearly snapped his fingers to help her feel warmer, but he suddenly recalled something she had told him one night. Wearing others clothes was a sign of intimacy, whatever that meant--all he knew is this felt pretty intimate. He shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around her instead. "I can't let you get any more sick, now can I?" he winked at her, referencing her poor excuse for her absence earlier.

Pomni blushed to the tips of her ears when he winked at her. They were in the middle of a sunlit path, gazing into each others' eyes, gifting each other flowers, and now she was wearing his coat--God, it was almost like he was trying to make her blush. She suddenly felt very hot, simultaneously wanting to take off his coat to cool down but, shamefully, also never wanting to take it off.

"Heh, yeah..." was all she could say, because if she said anything else she was sure he'd notice the tremble in her voice.

He smiled at her adorable reaction. "I must say, it suits you quite well, my dear. You could almost challenge my position as ringmaster!"

If she could blush anymore, she certainly did from his compliment. It almost made her laugh, how much he was making her feel tingly and fluttery without even trying. "Maybe I will," she teased.

Caine had to resist flying in the air from happiness. She was acting back to normal with him--albeit a bit shyer than usual, but no matter--and he loved it. "Ah ah ah, careful, dear. If you're coming for my job then I have to warn you, I was coded to be this charming."

Pomni giggled at his comment. "Really? You'd be surprised, I can put on quite the show."

"I won't believe it until I see it," Caine challenged.

"Hah, you will. And when you do, you'll have to wear this hat and I'll wear yours."

Caine looked at her in thought, smiling at the way she looked in his coat. "Really? Me in a jester hat? And you in mine? I'd like to see it," he said, but he wasn't sure If he was talking about the show anymore.

Pomni grinned at the idea, the image itself quite funny yet also endearing.

"Well, if that challenge is all settled, how about we finish our walk through the grounds?" Caine offered, gesturing to the path ahead.

Pomni allowed herself to touch the collar of the jacket, tightening it around herself. "Uh-huh," she said, her confidence gradually returning.

"Fantastic!" Caine's feet nearly floated above the ground from how thrilled he was that they were on good terms again. They continued their walk through the grounds, nearing the end of the digital forest and catching a glimpse of the nearby carnival.

They stopped at the edge of the lake where Pomni glanced subtly at her reflection. In the back of her mind, she knew she was doing it to make sure she didn’t look silly in front of Caine. She was well aware of his gaze now. It could burn a hole right through her.

The sight of her wearing Caine’s coat made her blush, somehow both embarrassed and pleased. On one hand, wearing his coat seemed like a big jump when she was still adjusting to her strong feelings. On the other hand…it felt nice to be wrapped in something of his. Her stomach fluttered again at the thought, emotions so strong she almost felt sick.

Caine carefully approached her. “If I may ask, darling,” he began, fiddling with his cane again behind his back, “if I didn’t do anything to scare you off, then why were you avoiding me?”

Pomni snapped out of her thoughts. “Oh, um…I don’t know…” she rushed to think of an explanation. A half-truth, maybe. Something that wasn’t a lie or a confession. She definitely wasn’t ready for that yet—she was barely able to accept she even had feelings to begin with.

Caine blinked curiously at her, awaiting her response. “You don’t know?”

Pomni’s heart thumped in her chest. “Oh, no—I mean well, I do know, i-it’s not that I don’t, but, it’s sort of hard to explain, you know? Personal stuff. Just been uh, busy in my thoughts, heh…” she sputtered out nonsense, shrinking in embarrassment at how visibly flustered she was becoming.

Caine tilted his head curiously. “My dear, are you feeling alright? You seem a bit out of sorts.”

Oh, God. He noticed. She knew she was hiding from him for a reason. “Huh? O-oh, that? It’s nothing, really Caine, I mean I feel okay. I feel fine. I had a reason for avoiding you, and it wasn’t because you did something wrong, but…”

She met his gaze as she trailed off, blushing at the sight of his curious eyes on her, waiting patiently for a response. Her breath caught in her throat. God, did she really like him that much? That all her thoughts just froze in time like that?

“Well, I…” she sighed, taking another deep breath before continuing, “I…have been thinking. About you. N-not in a weird way, just…contemplating things.”

“You’ve been thinking about me? Pomni, I was thinking about you! Isn’t that fantastic?” Caine piped up, floating a bit in the air as he spoke up.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. But I mean…not like that. I was just worried. About things being weird. Things changing,” Pomni admitted, feeling the heat return in her face as she confessed.

Caine grabbed Pomni’s hands lightly to comfort her. “How would things change?”

Her heart sped up at his touch. “I-I…I just know we’re getting closer. And sometimes, for humans, that can be scary,” Pomni tried to explain. Her heart was beating rapidly, butterflies still fluttering around in her stomach nervously. Admittedly, she was scared—her feelings were growing stronger now that she was spending time with him, not going away like she had hoped. She was terrified, even.

Caine pulled out a comically small notebook and large pencil, allegedly writing down what she said. “I see, I see. And humans feel fear when they form bonds with others because…?”

Pomni clutched her arm, looking down at the lake again in thought. She thought about the way he had wrapped the coat around her so gently, how it looked on her shoulders knowing it was normally around his, and she sighed feeling herself heart beating again. “Because it makes you vulnerable. To getting hurt. Losing someone, embarrassing yourself…you know…”

Caine nodded as he jotted down what she said before the notebook and pencil disappeared in a poof. “Is that what you’re afraid of, Pomni?” he asked gently.

Pomni’s eyes widened at the question. “Um, yeah…I think so.”

“So, you avoided me because we’ve become friends, and that scared you because it could lead to losing me or embarrassing yourself. Do I have that correct?”

Pomni hesitated. She couldn’t exactly say the truth. Well, what it really is is that I have suddenly developed strong romantic feelings for you and I didn’t want to admit it or let it grow but now I can’t deny it and am afraid of letting it show in front of you or the others and ultimately humiliating myself.

“Pomni…?”

“What? Oh, yes.” Pomni snapped out of her thoughts.

Caine’s hold on her hands grew slightly tighter. “Dear, I could never hate you. Or leave you. Or even make fun of you, for whatever reason that may be. Every moment I spend with you is another opportunity for me to become even more advanced, and to understand you better. How could I ever judge?”

Pomni laughed half-heartedly. “Yeah…I guess it sounds a bit of a stupid fear when you put it like that.”

“It’s not stupid. It makes sense. And, well…” he placed a finger on his chin in thought, “I think with what you’ve told me, I can guess I’m feeling the same way. In fact, I think that’s why I seemed so worried about having done something to scare you off. Does that sound right? Was I experiencing fear like you?”

Pomni bit her lip. He certainly wasn’t experiencing fear like her, assuming he didn’t suddenly develop a massive crush on her. “Yes,” she said in spite of it all, “that’s a very human thing to feel, Caine.”

Caine lifted off the ground at that, swirling in the air a bit in excitement. “At this rate, I’m becoming more human every day! And it’s all thanks to you, Pomni,” he flew down to her level, pulling the flower he had given her out of his coat pocket.

“That, you are. Heh. Thanks again, Caine,” she smiled, finding his excitement cute. “And um…I’m sorry. For avoiding you these past days? I owe you a lot for all the adventures I missed.”

“All in the past, my dear!” He put an arm around her and brought her close in excitement. “Now how about we enjoy some time at the digital carnival before the others get back! You can tell me allll about your favorite human traditions!”

Pomni giggled again, holding a hand up over her mouth. “Alright, alright. But you’ll have to win some of those games to get information out of me,” she smirked.

“Gasp! Are you suggesting some sort of friendly competition?” Caine placed his hands on his chin in cartoonish shock.

Pomni crossed her arms. “Something like that. Let’s see how much you can get out of me before the others come back.”

Caine laughed. “Oh, dear, you never fail to impress me. Show me what you’ve got, because I must warn you—I am exceptionally talented at carnival games,” he said proudly.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Pomni repeated his words from earlier.

Caine spun through the air before grabbing for her hand. “Then let’s not waste any time, dear!”

Pomni returned his grip on her hand, not quite as afraid of the butterflies anymore. “Show me what you’ve got, ringmaster.”

A/N: I wrote like half of this at the same time as taking a test, I kept switching tabs and going between showtime and sociology. the showtime grind is real

[skvaderarts]

When you ask someone nicely to do something simple that they forget to do every single day even after you've written reminders for them like they asked because they refuse to read the reminders, and then they get mad that you reminded them because they claim they didn't forget and then promise to do it and give you a attitude about it to make you feel bad for asking in the first place, and then they STILL DON'T FUCKING DO IT so you have to do it yourself, all the while knowing that when you try to talk to them about this later they are going to say some shit like "well it got done, didn't it? So who cares?"

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

[puppykento]

whipped - husband!nanami x fem!reader [drabble]

a/n: my first time writing nanami purely bcs every time i think about him i start shaking violently

cw: 18+ content, domestic fluff, soft, counter sex, he bites you once

You're sitting next to the sink on the bathroom counter, your wedding band placed next to you as you lather your hands up in shaving foam. You rub it onto Kento's lower face and throat, covering every inch of skin that tends to sprout prickly, blonde stubble. His large hands are resting on your waist as he stands between your legs, your thighs squeezing his hips.

"You're giving me that look again, Ken." You say with a small smile, rinsing off your hands in the water-filled sink before grabbing his razor, gently gliding it along his face, being careful to catch all the hairs without pulling on his skin.

"What look, angel?" He replies, his eyes locked onto your face as you shave him, fondness overtaking his gaze. That look is the exact one you mean, the one where he acts as if you hung the moon and all the stars in the sky. Like you're the only girl he's ever seen. You shake your head softly at his words, clearing the razor from the foam and hair that's built up before gliding it along his skin once more.

"You're whipped." You tease, a cheeky smile coming to your face as you drag the razor through the foam once more. With a wet cloth, you clean the left over shaving cream from his face, running your fingers along the skin to make sure it's smooth before gripping his chin lightly, tilting his head up to expose the sensitive flesh of his throat. The movement makes him grunt, and you can feel his cock filling out against your thigh.

"Mhm. My wife is so beautiful. Any man with sense would be whipped." He breathes out, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows down the lump in his throat from being so close to you, his grip on your waist tightening until his hands have bunched up the fabric of your shirt.

"Ah, is that so?" You reply, letting out a breathy laugh as you put the razor down, rinsing off any last traces of hair or shaving foam from your husbands face before patting his skin dry with a towel. He nods, leaning down to press a kiss to your jawline, trailing them down your neck before he sucks a mark into the skin right above your shirt collar.

"It's a fact, dear. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on." He murmurs between kisses, raising your shirt before pulling it off, pulling back to do the same to his own shirt. He lets out a soft whimper as your fingers trail over his toned stomach, his muscles tensing at your touch.

"Need you, pretty girl." He whispers against your skin, his cock twitching against your thigh and rock hard. You'd only been wearing his shirt, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He slips his pyjama pants down along with his boxers - just enough to free his erection. His breath hitches as the cold air hits his arousal heated skin, his hands shifting to grip your thighs and spread them, his fingers digging in slightly. You shiver at the cold of his wedding ring against your flushed skin, letting your head thump back against the wall.

"I'm all yours, Kento." You reply softly, your eyelids slightly hooded as you watch him slip the fabric of your panties to the side, his free hand gripping the base of his cock before he slides forward, a low moan spilling from your lips as he presses into your entrance inch by inch. He pulls you more towards the edge of the bathroom counter so he can reach deeper, the head of his dick meeting your cervix as he buries himself to the hilt inside of your tight heat.

"Oh, fuck, baby... she's soaked." He moans, his brows pinching together as he stays still for a moment, taking in how your walls squeeze his length, sucking him in. He'd never leave if he could help it. He reaches down to gather some of your slick and use it to rub small circles into your clit. "This all for me?"

All you can do is nod, gasping as his thumb rubs your swollen bud. His hips start to rock into you gently, his head hanging back as pleasure overtakes him, low groans and sounds of pleasure leaving him. Strands of blonde hair hang lose as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, dangling in front of his eyes as he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Pretty pussy made just for me..." His words are punctuated by a particularly rough thrust, his cock bumping against your sweet spot just as he brushes his thumb against your clit. The coil in your stomach snaps, your orgasm rushing through you as you clench around your husband's dick.

"Shit." He grunts as he feels you cum, your arousal coating him. His movements grow more sloppy, his cock barely leaving you before he's burying it deep inside of you once more, his mouth hanging open as his on orgasm builds inside of him. "Mmph... my wife's milkin' my dick so well."

His head drops into the crook of your neck as he cums, biting down on your skin gently as he snaps his hips forward, shooting ribbons of white into your cunt. His teeth release your flesh after a moment and he presses a tender kiss to the bite. He pulls away and gives you a sweet smile, his hands moving to your hips as his thumbs gently stroke your skin.

"I love you so much, Ken..." You say softly, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, your arms coming up to loop around his neck.

"I love you even more, my angel."

[sttoru]

Helloo, could you do a scenario where baby gumi can’t sleep because he forgot his favorite blanky at daycare. What would y/n and toji do?

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. not beta read reader gets called ‘mama’. wc: around 600

“the little brat won’t sleep,” is what your husband says as he steps into your shared bedroom—the child in question right in his arms. toji sighs in defeat whilst megumi continues on wailing.

it’s been an hour since he’s tried to get your son to sleep. though, megumi’s stubbornness remains victorious; not without his beloved blanket.

“the hell do we do? kid just refuses to sleep,” toji continues. he walks over to the edge of the bed and sits down next to you. your husband clicks his tongue like he’s offended, “tsk. he even scratched me when i tried to pick ‘m up.”

your eyes travel down the length of toji’s arms before finding the little fresh scars. they aren’t anything serious, but they look like they hurt at impact. you know since you’ve been a victim to a toddler’s scratches before.

their strong grip needs to be studied.

“aww, that’s not good, ‘gumi,” you shake your head and jokingly frown at your son. megumi’s cries quiet down once he hears your soothing voice. he whimpers and blinks his tears away.

toji raises an eyebrow at his son who’s suddenly gone silent. he knows that your voice has a calming effect—it even works on the older man himself—but it’s still fascinating to see how easily you can take control of the situation.

“c’mere,” you coo at megumi. you take the little child from toji’s arms and pat his back softly. you kiss the top of his head repeatedly and hum the tune of his favourite song, ‘twinkle twinkle little star’.

toji balances his body back on his arms with his hands flat on the mattress behind him. he’s still impressed by how fast you managed to soothe your son, “hmph, how come he’s quiet with you?”

you glance at toji and catch him frowning—pouting almost. it seems your husband’s quite jealous of your parenting skills. or.. of the favouritism your child has, “heh, gumi’s clearly a mama’s boy.”

you decide to tease toji and he reacts like expected. the dark-haired man scoffs and rolls his eyes at your remark before scooting closer to you—leaning his head down to megumi.

the little boy sniffles as he rests against your shoulder. his big, teary eyes open and land on his father’s face that’s only inches away.

toji ruffles megumi’s hair, to which the little boy whines and huffs. the older man gently grabs megumi’s cheeks with one hand and squeezes them together, “ye gotta watch out, buddy.”

megumi squirms in your embrace. he tries to shake his dad’s hand away, threatening to bite it if toji won’t let go.

toji grins at his son’s sounds of protest. he can’t take megumi seriously when he’s all whiny like this. it makes the boy look adorable in his eyes—makes him want to tease him.

your husband clears his throat after catching himself smiling at the adorable sight. he continues his little teasing act by lightly nibbling on megumi’s cheeks, “‘m still y’r mama’s favorite, ya hear?”

you roll your eyes and giggle at toji’s words. it’s not the first time toji’s ‘fought’ with megumi over your attention. or over who’s considered your ‘favorite’. you know it’s all jokes in the end—but it’s entertaining each time.

“honey, he’s a kid,” you laugh softly as toji continues to tickle and nibble on megumi’s skin, making the little boy giggle but also squirm in attempt to make his dad stop.

toji stops for a second to reply. he’s got a cocky smirk on his face as he responds, “and i’ll fight a kid.”

. . . at least megumi’s forgotten all about his favorite blanket.

[deadsetobsessions]

He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.

“Uh.”

“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”

Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.

Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”

Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.

“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”

Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.

“Deal.”

“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.

“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.

“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What, you don’t have to do that.”

“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”

“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.

“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”

“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.

When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.

——

“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.

“Cass! What’s up?”

“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.

What…?

Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.

“Huh.”

“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”

“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.

“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.

“Woah!”

Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.

“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.

“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.

She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”

“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”

“Master Danny!”

Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”

Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.

But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?

Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.

Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.

——

“Cass? Why’d you call us?”

“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”

Cass paces.

“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.

“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”

“What.”

“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.

“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”

Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”

“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.

In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.

——

“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”

“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.

“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”

“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.

Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.

[yeyinde]

(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap 😭

are you planning on writing any more for either of those?

ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.

stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.

Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.

Your dog does not like strangers.

He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.

He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.

But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.

You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.

And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.

Or so you thought.

But he's been acting strange lately.

You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.

It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 

As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.

It's small—at first. 

He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.

He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.

"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"

But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.

Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—

There's nothing to worry about.

He'll protect you.

But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—

He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.

It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 

The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—

They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.

Something thick, firm between your thighs—

Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.

Baby will protect you. 

Always. 

But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—

It's not normal.

He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.

But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 

Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—

No. You're just—

Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.

You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.

"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"

His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 

When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—

You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.

A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—

A wet dream.

—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 

You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You’ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 

It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 

Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—

It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.

A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.

This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.

And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.

He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.

There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,

your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—

You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

The man has been watching from the beginning. 

Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.

His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.

"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—

Baby growls.

He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.

But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 

The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.

"Baby—?"

"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”

He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 

"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 

You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 

The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 

"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."

Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—

Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 

“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 

You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 

“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—

It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—

There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 

And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—

But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 

“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”

His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.

"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.

He has you.

Your submission makes him purr.

"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

My Sweet Intruder (Sleepwalking Love)

I wanted crack but also fluff, this was the creation. Enjoy!

~

Tim had recently bought a new place to live near a college since he decided to continue his education, the apartment was on the nicer side of things and even though he had gotten it for his civilian life it still had some security on par with his night life safe homes.

All of this to say that it would be hard for someone to break in and even more so to not be noticed.

Which is pretty what he thinks is going on.

Someone is breaking into his house when he's not there which frankly is not that often to begin with since he's so busy with all kinds of things.

But the intruder doesn't seem to be causing harm?

There's nothing damaged or stolen just some food sometimes.

Honestly the complete opposite of what you would expect from an intruder, his apartment was cleaned things were moved around the kitchen was stocked with fresh food and ready meals.

Honestly it took him this long to know something was wrong because he had originally thought it was one of his brothers coming by and helping out or something.

But no after some investigating it wasn't anyone in the family it wasn't even his friends or someone else he knew someone who would make sense as to why this was happening.

Also there appeared to be living there considering all the things appearing around his apartment making a home for themselves that were very much not his.

But the Intruder since he had no name for them was ..considerate?

Almost sweet in a creepy way if you think about it.

His apartment was cleaned he had meals ready for him to eat and a bunch of other small things that combined were making his life easier.

He would like to know who this intruder was but his surveillance and all other tech always died out when it seemed they were there, so no video proof and they always were gone before he could catch a glimpse of even their shadow.

~

Danny was having such a good time, he was honestly a bit worried about moving to Gotham for college especially since apparently his application to live in the dorms had somehow not been processed or something and they only bothered to tell him while he was already there.

Thankfully luck was on his side because only a few hours after that incident while inside a coffee shop stressing about what to do and venting to his sister on the phone a man sitting next to him who looked like he needed a mini coma of sleep and looked kinda high overheard him and offered to be roommates with him since he was also going to the same college.

So yes things were going wonderfully, he had a place to live where he didn't even have to pay rent, and Tim was such a good roommate, he barely saw him but when he did he usually was more asleep then awake.

~

Tim after a while: "Why are there so many spaced themed objects in my apartment?"

~

Tim inviting Danny to live with him

Danny 'What's Stranger Danger?' Fenton: "Bet"

~

Tim: "How do they keep getting past all my security measures?!*pulling his hair out*

Danny using the key sleepwalking Tim gave him: "Home sweet home!"

~

Tim trying his best to catch Danny in person:

Tim sleeptalking:"One day I'll catch him"

Danny who is used to Tim sleep talking and sleep walking helping him get back to bed for the umpteenth time: "You sure will boo!"

~

Danny being grateful that Tim is letting him live there without having to pay rent and gave him a credit card to pay for things: "He's so sweet guys!"

Sam & Tucker: " Dude..is he your sugar daddy?! "

Danny: *shocked Pikachu face* "But there's no sugar involved?"

~

Danny thinking that maybe they are in a relationship just taking it very slowly because Tim's shy

~

Also Danny's love language being acts of service

Tim's love language is coincidentally also acts of service

~

Tim slowly falls in love with Danny still not knowing who he is: "I think I have issues"

Danny still thinking they're in a relationship and that Tim is just super shy: "Maybe we could hold hands soon!" *sappy smile*

~

Tim:

Danny:

~

What a story it will be when someone asks them how they got together! (◠‿・)—☆

Just an Idea

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

I think it would be so hard for Toji to deny you of anything when you're upset to the point of crying. You always act so passive about things that bother you, for him, because he rarely falls apart on you, so who are you to dump your emotions on him like that?

You come home from a really bad day at work that never allowed your headache to cease. Everybody was turning things in late, nobody was working to beat their deadlines—extended deadlines— and you were the one who took the hits for it all, as the leader of your group. You were one more mentioned member of your team away from snapping at your boss. Thankfully, you were allowed to go home after that talk.

Toji got home before you, so he had some time to wind down from his own stressful day, but the minute you walked in, he knew there was something wrong. You barely acknowledged him, a small smile being all you offered him, before you dragged yourself to your shared bedroom. No 'hi, baby' followed by you literally tossing yourself onto him, or even a 'wow, you're home before me?'

That didn't slide with him like you may have thought it would.

He got up after waiting two minutes for you to come back out. You never did, so he went after you, immediately spotting you face down on the bed. Your body was trembling, your shoulders jumping with your sobs. It was a strange sight, but it didn't make him feel any less concerned for you. He strode over to your side, resting a palm on your back. Your body was rigid with tension, your shoulders unable to drop because of it. He's sure you'll complain about the pain once you've calmed down a little more.

It was hard to get you to talk, but eventually you spilled every detail of what made you feel this way. Toji couldn't relate to your patience. If he were disciplined for other people's actions despite doing his job of trying to catch them up and reminding them to do things, he would be livid. You aren't like that, though. Things happen at work. Things that lure out frustration, anger, and overall feelings of wanting to implode and instead of leaving it there at work, where it belongs, you bring it home. You've clearly reached your breaking point.

"Want me to kill them?" He asks, feeling you shake your head against his chest in response. "Might just do it behind your back if you come home like this again, ma. Dead serious," he says, noting that you still haven't fully relaxed in his hold. "No reason you should ever be this stressed over people not doing their jobs. Fucking idiots, acting like children because they know it all weighs down on you."

You wanted to cry again at the way he tightened his hold on you while he defended you. You sucked it up and moved off of his chest, and when he looked down to see what you were doing, you kissed him. Your hand went beneath his shirt and felt up his warm, sculpted abdomen.

Clothes were removed and you now sat on his lap, his cock deep inside you. He knew you needed this despite how you were so distraught when he came into the room. He couldn't turn you down when you asked if he could be as close to you as he could. He knew you needed to release some steam, but he didn't expect it to be so calm. You laid your head on his shoulder, your arms draped around his neck while he held you close, his hands resting on your back.

Toji cooed at you, when you started sniffling, again. Slowly but surely, you were releasing all those bottled up emotions, your tears landing on the bare skin of his shoulder.

"Shh... it's alright. You don't have to think about anything, right now." He presses a kiss to your shoulder and then one to the side of your neck, before moving his hips a little, luring some quiet sighs from you. "Yeah, let me take care of you, mama. Just gotta breathe for me. That's all you gotta do, 'kay?"

You nod against his shoulder and allow him to bring both of you, soft, intimate, and unhurried pleasure. Your moans were light and airy, your whimpers soft and muffled by his skin.

Toji's orgasm rolled in before yours. His generous amount of release coated your walls, heavy and ragged breaths grazing your skin. In his head, he blames it on being able to become a safe space for you and his ability to provide protection. Your emotions were unconfined and you confided in him to soothe you. The mixture of physical intimacy and his comforting words was enough to calm you down. Your shoulders weren't tense anymore, and you were able to melt into his embrace.

Your orgasm had your body quivering against his. The sound of your rapid breathing was all you could release into his neck, your nails dragging across his shoulders through the intensity. He smiled softly, satisfied when you let out the smallest squeak.

"That's it, baby. Good girl. Just relax." He strokes your back, stilling his hips once the zenith of your pleasure passes.

Once the adrenaline dies down a little, you go back to rest your head on his shoulder, retightening your arms around him. Toji keeps stroking your back, his other hand resting on the back of your head.

"You're not going to work tomorrow. You have... let's see... food poisoning and you can't move without feeling like you're gonna blow chunks." He can feel your laughter against him, your shoulders jumping as a positive gesture compared to how he found you, luring a smile onto his face. "I'm not taking no for an answer either. We're both out tomorrow, 'cause I can't leave you here to die. Alright?"

"Okay," you mumble.

[bianquitasunderworld]

dave lizewski smut plsss i love nerdy dick 😭😭🙏

Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I love nerdy dick too twin, you so real for this omg😭‼️ (omg y’all i didn’t expect myself to make this kind of romantic sorry y’all i’ll write something crazy next time, this is long as hell ‼️)

How did this happen? How did Dave end up with the woman he thought was the hottest girl on earth, on top of him straddling his hips?

It all started when Dave decided to invite his girlfriend over to study. She definitely did not want to study—how could she, when all she could think about was how hot he looked while he rambled on about some silly, boring, and excessively long economic questions for class.

Truth be told, she didn’t care much about anything he was saying at the moment. Although that might sound rude, she didn’t care one bit. Her boyfriend sat at the edge of his bed, rambling, and he looked absolutely perfect. His glasses were set perfectly in place on his face, and the way the tip of his tongue stuck out as he delved deep into thought about his stupid economics homework—how could she possibly focus?

Dave was completely oblivious to her ogling. He wasn’t aware that she was practically salivating just from looking at him, he was oblivious to all the impure thoughts running through his girlfriends head, he was so focused on finishing his assignments he didn’t realize just how needy his girlfriend was.

Although Dave and you were in a very serious relationship you’ve never discussed sex it was uncharted territory for both of you. Dave was too shy and embarrassed because he was still a virgin it was a sensitive topic for him. Everyone is aware he isn’t the most popular guy at school.

You on the other hand were scared you’d send him running for the hills if you tried to suggest sex, It’s not like you both never did anything well…the furthest you’ve gotten with each other was making out and grinding against each other, and the ending result was always the same: Dave blushing, covering his lap with a pillow while he sat at his desk chair, and diverting into discussions about random comics and superhero references as if you didn’t just have your tongue in his mouth.

You kept eyeing Dave and biting your lip the thoughts running through your head were pure sin, you were convinced if Dave knew about them he would be a stuttering and blushing disaster. You didn’t think your staring was obvious until Dave suddenly redirected his attention from his five-minute monologue about consumerism, catching you in the act.

He looked back at you from his spot on the bed as he cleared his throat and spoke softly. “Are you okay? Is um something wrong?” God he was so sweet and caring he was oblivious to the fact that all you wanted to do was have him whimpering and groaning beneath you, your desires were consuming your mind. You always wondered what he would sound like when he was overwhelmed with pleasure. You’d caught a glimpse of it once, and since then, your thirst for more was like that of a desert traveler yearning for a drop of water.

“Yeah-Mhm everything’s fine sorry my mind was somewhere else for a second” you smiled at him trying to sound as if you weren’t seconds away from jumping on him. He smiled and adjusted his glasses before he nodded and turned his attention back to his paper.

You couldn’t stand it the last straw was when he bit his bottom lip in concentration you couldn’t stop yourself you swiped his paper off the table, the rustling sound breaking the spell between you. You set it down with a bit more force than intended, a bold move that marked your intentions.

Leaning in, you placed a hand on his cheek and pressed your lips to his, a surge of unspoken desires finally finding expression. His initial surprise melted away, replaced by a hunger that mirrored your own. In that stolen kiss, the air crackled with a mix of passion and anticipation, as if the world outside had faded, leaving just the two of you suspended in that breathtaking moment.

And there it was, the culmination of all those unspoken desires, manifesting in the reality of the moment. Dave found himself reclined against the headboard, a sensation of both exhilaration and disbelief coursing through him. You straddled him, your legs encasing his body, intimacy that had been a distant fantasy until now. His glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, which had turned a deep shade of crimson. The flush of his cheeks mirrored the intensity of the moment, a testament to the shared vulnerability and passion.

Your gaze trailed down, drinking in the sight of his bare chest pressed against you, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath a captivating dance. The tousled strands of his hair cradled his head against the pillow like a crown, accentuating his allure.

His eyes held a mix of emotions as they lingered on your chest, a blend of curiosity and desire. The gravity of the moment weighed on the air, punctuated by his words, “Are you sure about this?” Your fingers, tender as a whisper, glided across his cheek, a gesture of reassurance and care. Leaning down, you captured his lips in a soft, lingering kiss, your intention clear—to grant him the choice to halt if his comfort wavered.

You sought to convey through touch what words might not fully express. His gaze held yours, a reservoir of affection and trust that spoke volumes. With a glance saturated in love, he nodded, affirming his readiness to explore uncharted realms with you.

He looked down between both your bodies, you were hovering over him, he bit his lip. Dave whined out a small, broken “please.” You closed your eyes savoring the way he spoken his plead was music to your ears.

You slowly sank down on to him, your mouth let out a small gasp at the feeling as he let out a deep groan, he felt the way you clamped down against him, the way he stretched you open had you groaning. You leaned down to kiss him gently, and gave yourselves time to adjust to the new sensation. Dave was girthy and long, he was bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, this felt different from all the times you’ve had sex this, this was love. You could feel the love radiating off of him as he kissed you and groaned into the passionate kiss.

Once you both adjusted, Dave gripped your hips and bucked his hips into you, his thrust were slow and deep, the noises of skin against each other and pleasurable moans filled the room. “Y-you’re so beautiful” Dave muttered and he looked into your eyes. “You’re so pretty davie” You couldn’t help but cry out as you reached down to play with yourself rubbing small gentle circles on your clit and slowly grinding down against him.

He whimpered and you felt his arms wrap around you, holding you in place. You could feel the tension in his body, the excitement building as he felt you against his body. You leaned down to kiss him gently, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tender embrace. You were addicted to the feeling of him inside you, the way he held you, the way he moaned your name. The pressure was building and you knew that you were about to cum you were trying to hold off trying to make this last for as long as you could. “Dave-I’m gonna cum--“ You cried out.

“I-f-fuck” Dave stuttered out as he felt you squeeze around him as you reached your climax, your body shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. Dave was groaning deep in his throat, his hips moving up and down as he came as well. You felt like you were one, a single unit, moving together in a synchronized dance of pleasure as he came deep in you.

Dave whimpered as you rode out your high against him, he felt himself growing overstimulated, he reached for your hips and kept a firm hold on you to keep you from moving, his body was shaking and sweat dripped from his forehead.

“I love you,” you murmured, your voice laced with affection.

“I love you too, baby,” Dave replied, a tender smile on his lips. With a gentle motion, he lifted himself and drew you in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

Releasing yourself from the embrace, you let out a soft sigh of contentment as you reclined against the bed, Dave at your side. He seemed to shift, a hint of nervousness tainting his usual bashful demeanor. “So, uh, how did I do? Was it okay?” His cheeks flushed a shade of crimson that rivaled a tomato’s hue.

“You were amazing.”

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

warning: yandere and obsessive behavior, mentions of death and violence, possessiveness

Yandere!Angel adored you with all of his heart, worshipping you as his goddess. He abandoned his creator, instead turning to you.

He kissed along your thighs, his strong, large hands holding onto your plump thighs as he spread them open.

He always looked up at you for permission, his chin resting on your leg obediently. Despite the fact he was nearly twice your height, he acted like a needy puppy before you, willing to do anything to please you.

“May I?”

You nodded, sighing happily as his tongue licked your soft, fat pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

As he settled between your thighs, ready to worship his goddess, he began to remember how this all came to be.

He was supposed to be working on earth, helping guide humans to the correct path and keep them from sinning.

Instead, he ended up getting hurt, stranded on the side of the road with a broken wing.

He hadn’t been told how cruel humans could be.

So when you pulled over in your car, running up to him, he attempted to spread out his wings in a defensive display, his eyes shining bright enough to blind a man.

But his eyes dimmed and he yelped in pain as his broken wing moved. He fell back onto the ground, panting softly, looking up at you weakly.!

“Hey, hey…”

You knelt down, reaching out carefully to inspect his wing.

“Don’t touch me!”

You flinched, frozen in fear, his power causing you to be unable to move.

An angel’s command worked only on those pure of heart… so for a moment to examined you.

Soft and chubby with a kind face, like the cherubs he played with in heaven. As you did your best to bandage his wing, you noticed he was nearly twice the size of you… and very handsome.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise. See, it’s feeling better isn’t it?”

The angel watched you, his eyes wide with curiosity and wonder as you dabbed some soothing cream onto his swollen skin. You were being so gentle with him, guiding him back to your car.

The way you kept him flush against you, being as gentle as possible to make sure his wounds wouldn’t be irritated made him feel… strange.

He barely fit in your backseat, having to lie down so you could close the door.

“… thank you…”

He nuzzled softly against you, his undamaged wing flapping. “You saved me… you’re so kind, like an angel… like…”

You turned to see him staring at you, his eyes big. The golden orbs observed with newfound interest, watching as you grabbed a med kit to further clean and treat his wounds.

‘Like a goddess…’ he thought to himself, not daring to say such blasphemy aloud.

As he began to recover, you noticed him staring, following you with his eyes every time you moved.

“Need something?”

He quickly looked away, his cheek flushing a soft pink. His wing fluttered in both nervousness and excitement.

“I… don’t need anything.”

It didn’t take him long to heal, his body was different than any human or animal, but… he still feigned pain when you touched his now healed wing.

“Ah, it still hurts?”

You soothed him, letting him nuzzle into you and look at you with those big golden eyes. He was utterly entranced, wanting to worship and adore you… no one had ever been so kind to him!

So that’s how he ended up like this, begging for you to use him, to order him around and to let him love and protect you for all of time.

The only catch was… he was the only one allowed to worship the temple that was your body.

He pulled his fingers from your wet cunt, his tongue struggling to part with your puffy clit. It wasn’t easy, but he knew from your whines and tugging on his pants that you wanted his cock now.

And he would give you anything…

He pushed his cock past your wet folds, stretching you on him. The first time he worshipped you this way, he cried with you as your body tried its best to accommodate his large size. He hated seeing you in pain…

Your pretty, ample breasts bounced deliciously as he moved his hips, unable to stop himself from fucking you like a wild animal.

God you were perfect, his angel, his goddess… and no one would ever get to see the look of ecstasy on your face when you came.

A warm bath had you sighing in relief after, your angel happily bathing you, kissing your feet and scrubbing your body as gently as possible.

Though it was difficult keeping his jealously at bay… being with him wasn’t too hard. If only you knew how many men he had killed due to his possessive nature…

You’d never even think he was capable. He was an angel after all, with soft blonde curls and the prettiest, most innocent golden eyes.

And he wanted you to remain ignorant to his second nature. He much preferred worshipping you while you were relatively free and happy…

But he’d lock you up if it meant keeping you to himself~

The angel settled you down with him after your bath, covering you with his soft, feathery white wings. He kept you close to his chest, kissing your head.

Everything was just perfect.

For now…

(More?)

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: dubcon-ish due to suggestiveness and alcohol, yandere, breakup, depression, schemes, manipulation, office au for some reason

part two in Gojo's pov

fem reader

It’s been two weeks since your breakup—since you got dumped on your sorry ass.

You wished you could say you were fine, wish you could say fuck that guy, anyway, good fucking riddance—that you’d make him regret it, that he didn’t know what he lost, that he’d come crawling back begging your forgiveness soon enough. You really wish you were that girl—the one who gets up and dusts off and gets back out there with her head still held high. You really do.

But no, you’re one of those girls who feel silly getting dressed—worried that you’re trying too hard. Fuck, it’s hopeless. You feel like shit, and you look like shit, and you don’t even want to go out anyway—it’s just some shitty office party at some shitty little bar where everyone’s going to make your breakup their business. It would be best not to go—leave them to talk shit about it behind your back. 

Sure, you could slap on your best tough act and tell them all to go fuck themselves, but why bother? You’re just going to drink too much and end up doing something you regret.

And oh, how right you were.

It’s not even been a good few hours before you’ve got the office slut’s tongue down your throat—all but clinging to him as you press your body up against his. Manicured hands tussled in his pretty white locks, pulling on him while sucking each other’s faces, leeching off the feeling of his hands grabbing your waist—oh god, it feels good to be wanted again.

Yes—yes, this is what you need. Fuck your ex-boyfriend, he’s probably out fucking some skank himself. Well, two can play that game. He’ll see. You’ll make him see. That fucking asshole—

Oh no.

“Wait—stop,” you break off the desperate kissing. 

Hanging your head while steadying your breath, you push both hands flat on his hard chest, keeping him distanced even as he leans after your lips. 

You swallow thickly, then wipe your mouth, taking a step back. “The fuck am I doing…”

You don’t dare look back up at him. Beyond embarrassed, you just want to get out of there as quickly as your feet can carry you—catch the first cab home and forget all about it. Pretend it never happened. 

“Sorry, ‘m gonna go,” you mumble as you start walking away, leaving your confused colleague behind, alone outside the bathroom stalls, still recovering.

You make your way down the hallway with dim neon lights flickering overhead, feeling swallowed up by the graffiti-littered walls.

What a sorry place for mistakes.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I was about to be one of those girls.” You shudder as you wrap yourself in your own hug, feeling silly for wearing a cropped jacket—and why the fuck is your dress so short? You’re not a fucking teenager anymore. “Fucking hell… I’m such a mess.”

“No, wait.” A tug of your jacket holds you in place. Oh, but you really don’t want to look at him. It’s humiliating enough already that you’d sought him out for validation—you don’t need his pity as well. It’s Gojo, for fuck’s sake. A different girl brings him lunch about every day—the whole office knows.

You might just die from the toll of it.

“Com’on. I’m perfect for this, aren’t I?” he asks under his breath while maneuvering you up against the wall again, his dewy breath brushing your scalp as he peers down at you in wait for your answer.

“What are you on about?” You veer away. You should be in a cab already. Better yet, you should have never gone out in the first place. What was your goal here anyway? To not wallow in your own worthlessness? And you really thought seeking Gojo’s seal of approval would make you feel any better about yourself? The office hottie and the century’s ultimate fuckboy?

Fuck, it’s so wrong on so many levels, you feel disgusted with yourself.

“We’re both drunk,” he states, but you don’t really want to hear it—head too filled with your own bullshit to heed any of his. You swear, if he tries any one of his sleazy pick-up lines on you, you’re gonna knee him right in the balls. It would be nice to get fired now anyway—you’d take it as a blessing.

What he says instead is unexpected—brutally and grossly honest, “You need a rebound, right? And I wanna fuck.”

Your thoughts stop shaming you as you look back at him, returning his gaze with an awaiting silence, allowing him to go on.

“So let’s use each other and blame it on the drink.”

It sounds like the lyrics of an angsty heartache song they might have played back inside the bar—the muted thuds seeping in through the walls makes it all but true. And still, there’s something oddly enticing about it, even as it makes you cringe.

“No hard feelings. No strings,” he continues, a small grin playing in the corner of his lips. “Just a good ol’ tit for tat.”

He almost sells it. But you’re just one too many bad nights too tired to buy.

“Don’t be dumb—” you dismiss and try nudging him away again—only, he doesn’t let up.

“C’mon—you’re angry, aren’t you?” he poses with a quirked brow. “What better way to stick it to him than fucking the hottest guy around?”

It stunts you. Suppose that had been exactly your objectives tonight, unknowingly and much to your shame. At least you can find some mediocre solace in your next confession, for as it turns out, “I’m not that kinda girl.”

It’s a depressing outcome. Made even shittier by how you sort of wish you were—that kind of girl. The type who doesn’t let anything get to her, who moves on and doesn’t think twice about it—who fucks the hot guy in front of her and wakes up feeling empowered the next morning. If only you weren’t such a tragic fucking loser…

“Be her for a night?” he suggests, still not having given up. He cups your chin and brushes a thumb over your lips. It’s really intimate, makes you feel pinned beneath that look in his eyes—as if the sky was coming down upon you. His words are low, brushing your face with heat as he says them, “I promise, I’ll make you feel so good you’ll forget all about him.”

Goddamn it—there it is, the fucking pick-up line. Now, it doesn’t really make your knees weak or anything, but you’re sorry to say you can’t deny it’s tempting, either. 

Besides, you really didn’t want to go home and spend the night crying yourself to sleep—again, now paired with regrets about this night on top of it all.

You look at him through the thicket of your mascara, into those big blue puppy-dog eyes looking at you in something so strange such as earnest. Oh God, he really wants to do this for you, doesn’t he? He could go find himself any other girl—everyone had been eyeing him earlier—it’s not too late for him to simply go pick any one of them up. 

Is this his way of being considerate—being a good colleague by offering you a fuck? Ugh… that makes you feel so fucking pathetic. But then again… why does it really matter? You couldn’t really stoop any lower at this point—might as well have some fun while at it, right?

You were out of ice cream anyway…

“C’mon,” he drawls, eyes growing heavier as he leans further in—once again, only a tiny inch separating you. So close you taste his breath and feel his voice on your lips. “Don’t make me beg.” 

You don’t. No, you end up saying not another word. Too busy drowning your sorrows, getting drunk while kissing him breathless.

And oh, you and your bittersweet heartbreak taste so good on his tongue—coercing your boyfriend into dumping you was the greatest ploy for your heart he could ever do.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[gay-dorito-dust]

Is it okay if I request Deadpool and Wolverine having an s/o that likes to bite them affectionately and like they keep doing doing it trying to leave a mark on them?

Headcanon or story is fine ❤️

Wade Wilson/ deadpool

‘Do I taste delicious bbg? I must seeing as how you’re eagerly coming back for seconds just to get your teeth into me.’ Wade would tease as he watched you bite onto his shoulder, no thoughts behind your eyes, only chomp.

‘I’m trying to see if I can leave a mark.’ You tell him, biting down a little harder on his shoulder but not enough to cause him any discomfort.

‘And In public too? *gasp* You naughty minx, I didn’t think you were like that but then again I guess voyerism has always been something I wanted to try.’ - Wade.

‘No’ - you

Wade doesn’t mind you biting him, bite him as much as you want but don’t be surprised if he were to say that he got the bite marks from something far more intimate. He’s just built like that but you love him regardless for it, he made life fun in a chaotic way.

He’d even might attempt to bite you back, make it your couple thing to bite each other affectionately and hard enough to leave a make but not enough to cause the other pain.

So when you bit his hand, he’ll bit your arm, which then leads to an all out biting war between the two of you to see who can bite the other the most. You could just be chilling on the sofa together and somehow bite each other simultaneously. This happens one too many times to count on one hand and even after the marks have gone away, it was just an excuse for you and Wade to bite each other as much as possible all over again.

So please by all means bite him as much as you want he’s not going to stop you, he’s enjoying it too much that he may or may not find himself developing a biting related kink sooner or later because of you.

‘Do I look pretty with your bite marks, claiming me as yours and yours alone?’ - Wade, battering his eyes.

‘The prettiest’ - you slapping his ass and giving him another bite on his bicep.

The fucker would moan when you do, loudly too so I hope your bit easily embarrassed.

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine

‘Ow! What the-‘ Logan sees you latching onto his bicep with your mouth, teeth digging into his skin, ‘-are you a fucking cannibal now? What’re you doing?’ He’d ask and you’d shrug.

‘Marking you?’ You questioned, still biting him.

‘Why?’ He’d ask.

You shrug again. ‘Your bicep look too nice so I had to bite it.’

Logan swore you were going to give him grey hairs with your shenanigans, but he just lets you do your thing. So half of the time you look like a fish on a fishing hook with the way you latch onto his bicep with no intentions of letting go anytime soon.

Even if people were to ask who gave him that many bite marks, he’d just raise his arm and reveal you hanging off of it and just point at you with a deadpan expression. ‘My nippy little shit of a partner did.’ He’d say in response.

He doesn’t mind a couple of bites but a fuck tone then he’ll probably tell you to tone it down with the biting, just until the current marks fade away.

‘I look like I got attacked by a fucking piranha.’ - Logan as he points at you. ‘Enough biting from you.’

You didn’t like that as much and would get all pouty because the whole point of you biting him was so that the marks would stay! This was torture! Logan tends to ruin the fun but that doesn’t stop you from biting him unexpectedly but there is moments where he does catch you in the act and you bolt away as fast as you can.

However in the end you’re the one coming out of the room with a couple of fresh bite marks yourself across your neck as Logan smirks to himself with pride. You did push your luck and Logan wasn’t one to let you get away with it without…a punishment or two…

[scarlet-star-witch]

You were my man and I your girl

Aemond Taragryen x female reader

Summary: Facing the news of her impending betrothal, she makes a final, desperate act of rebellion. Though when she discovers she is to marry her dear uncle, the man she has longed for since childhood, she realizes she may have ruined their marriage before it even began

Word count: 17.5 K (I need help)

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff, Aegon being kind of a good brother, men having the audacity, jealous Aemond, reader is Rhaenyra's daughter, but no mention of who her father is

~~

“What?”

Rhaenerya winced and bowed her head at the sharp tone. She knew her daughter would not take the news lightly, but she had hoped she could understand the delicate nature of their situation. 

“Darling, I know I told you-”

“Are you alright with this?” She interrupted, turning to Daemon who was sitting stone-faced, hating the news as much as she was. 

He opened his mouth, most likely to spew insults about her soon to be betrothed, but Rhaenrya’s sharp glare quickly quieted him and she turned desperately to her raging daughter. 

“My love, please understand-”

“What is there to understand?” Her daughter continued, her eyes wide, searing with betrayal. “You told me I would have a choice, that I would never be used as some political pawn for power.”

“We are on the verge of a succession war. We all have a duty to perform and as my heir you have your own to fulfill.”

The mention of the fight for succession, the hint as to who exactly she would be marrying did not register in her mind or it would have calmed the burning fire inside her. All she could make out in the maelstrom in her mind was that she was to be married and it was not her choice. 

She remembered, just moons ago, when Jason Lannister had offered his hand. The thought of being forced into the bed of a man decades older than her, power hungry and desperate to take the titles she could give him, made her feel sick to her stomach. 

“I can’t believe you would do this to me.” She told her mother, her voice sounding weaker, knowing she was facing a losing battle. 

Rhaenerya’s face fell, her daughter’s words cutting her deeply, causing an aching pain to bloom in her chest. 

“Please, if you would just listen, you might change-”

“I might change my mind and accept the fact that I’m to be sold like a mare?” She argued and quickly turned on her heel, storming out of the room. 

Rhaenerya pinched the bridge of her nose as she exhaled loudly, her frustration clear. Daemon tapped his fingers against his thigh, his gaze remaining on the empty doorway.

“That went as well as I expected.” He spoke dryly, his expression softening slightly when he saw the tiredness in his wife’s eyes. “She’ll get over it. She’ll eventually stop arguing long enough for you to explain.”

“She’s always been stubborn, but she has never raged like this before. She’s been spending too much time with you.” 

Daemon scoffed, though he couldn’t exactly deny the claim. 

“If she had only let me finish, she would have been happy with the news. She used to be so close to Aemond, I know she’s always cared for him. She barely spoke to me when we left King’s Landing, she was so mad that I had separated them.”

“I still say she can do better than that one-eyed cunt.” 

“Daemon.” Rhaenerya hissed, fighting the urge to smack him upside the head. “It is already done. The King has accepted the betrothal and their union will finally mend the divide between our families.”

~~

Her breathing was labored as she raced through the halls, unsure of where she was heading. Outside, she heard Vermithor’s loud roar, her dragon sensing his bonded rider’s discomfort and anger. She had a fleeting thought of racing to her beloved dragon and flying across the sea, hiding away from her duties for the rest of her days.

The thought was quick to dissolve. She knew Daemon would catch her before she could get Vermithor off the grounds of Dragonstone. 

So that left her to stew in her anger at being forced to marry a man she didn’t love and probably would never love and her hurt that her mother had broken the promise she had told her years ago as a child, that she would never be used a political pawn, that her hand in marriage would never be forced.

She briefly thought of a young boy with silver hair and quickly pushed the thought away when the ache of longing overtook her. 

The thought of the old, greedy, disrespectful lord she was soon to marry made her want to throw up. This was never what she pictured for herself. 

Defeated, she trudged back to her room, her head down, a picture of broken girlhood too many women in this realm knew all too well. 

“Princess, are you alright?” 

She perked up, her eyes meeting the caring gaze of her guard, Ser Darick, standing vigil at her door. 

A twisted idea unfurled inside her, a half-hearted plan of rebellion sparked by the flames of anger that burned brightly. 

She smiled, the gesture bringing one to his own lips. She had always found him handsome, many late nights had been spent with Baela and Rhaena giggling amongst each other about his broad shoulders and silken hair. 

She had no deeper desires for him, that place in her heart was firmly held by the sweet boy she left behind years ago, but it didn’t stop her from noticing the way her guard looked at her. She knew he desired her and the anger inside of her left her wanting for one thing she could control, one thing the man who would soon own her would never have. 

“I’m afraid I need your help with something in my chambers.” She spoke sweetly. Ser Darick nodded eagerly and he followed her inside. 

She closed the door behind them, causing him to turn back to look at her, his brows furrowed in confusion as he noticed the pristine state of her chambers. 

“Princess-?”

“I see how you look at me, Ser Darick.” She stated bluntly, vindicated from the way his eyes widened and averted from her gaze. “There’s not many things in my life that I get to choose and I’d like you to help me make one last choice before my freedom is taken from me.”

“I don’t understand.” 

She untied the laces of her dress, allowing it to fall from her shoulders, leaving her in a sheer slip. The man before her choked on his breath, the hunger in his eyes making her heart race, she knew he wanted her. She stepped towards him, her hands running over the expanse of his chest. 

“We shouldn’t. I swore an oath-”

“To protect me.” She finished his sentence. “I think this is exactly the protection I need.” She smiled cheekily. 

She pulled the shift over her head, leaving her body bare to him and she knew the second he gave in as his eyes took in every inch of her body. He dropped his hand from the hilt of the sword on his hip and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him as he crashed his lips to hers. 

She smiled in between kisses, feeling like she had her power back as she undid the pieces of armor from his body. 

She steadily ignored the guilt that crept through her mind, guilt for defying her mother and her duty. Moans fell from her lips as her guard took her hard and fast, his hunger for her clear in the way he held her tightly, in the way he refused to part his lips from any inch of her body. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, letting the image before her melt into one of the silver haired, one-eyed man she longed for. A shiver wracked her body, her toes curling at the images she conjured in her mind.

She bit her lip, stopping herself from letting the wrong name fall from her lips as she reached her peak. As the man above her shuddered to his end, her name bellowed in the quiet room, she thought of how Aemond would sound saying her name in rapture. 

As Ser Darick panted against her lips, his body collapsing against hers, she let herself indulge in the passionate touch of another and mourned for what she believed her future would hold. 

~~

Aemond was sitting stiffly in the same spot he had been for the last ten minutes, since his mother had told him the news. 

He couldn’t make sense of the emotions whirling within him. Relief was the first one he could pinpoint, but it quickly turned to guilt, soon to remorse, and then to the sham of disdain he had tried so hard to feel for her since the night he had lost his eye. 

Though no matter how hard he had tried to hate her like he hated the rest of her family, he found he could never conjure any for her. She never ridiculed him the way Aegon and her bastard brothers had, she was never a part of the cruel jokes and pranks they pulled on him. They were both young Targaryen’s without dragons and had found solace in their shared longing. Despite her own perceived shortcoming, she never wavered in the comfort she bestowed upon him. 

She spent many nights holding his hand, reassuring him he was worthy of a dragon when the teasing became too much for him to handle. She stuck up for him like no one else ever had. She even looked down upon her own brothers, scolding them for their immature teasing and jokes at his expense. 

 He remembered the worst night of his life, as his family splintered with the loss of his eye and the insults he had hurled at the Strong bastards.

But he always remembered how she had tearfully screamed at her own brother for what was done to him. He remembered when hours later, she snuck into his room, hugged him tightly and told him how proud she was that he had claimed Vhagar.��

He remembered how just a year later he had heard the news she had laid claim to the wild dragon, Vermithor. He wanted so badly to saddle his own dragon and make his way to her, to tell her how proud he was of her the same way she had praised him. 

But his mother had never had allowed it 

He could never hate her. She was never just another one of Rhaenyra’s bastard children and as much as he tried to tell himself to remain neutral, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at the news of his mother’s reluctant acceptance of their betrothal, one he had longed for but never had hope of ever coming to fruition. 

“Aemond?”

His mother’s voice broke him from his thoughts and he turned his attention towards her, attempting to remain stoic so he would not reveal his true feelings about the news. 

“Tell me if this is truly what you want. If not, I will tell Rhaenyra the betrothal is off.” 

Panic grew at the thought of his mother, or even his scheming grandfather, taking this away from him before he even got the chance to revel in it. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair.

“It’s alright, Mother. I will perform my duty.” 

Alicent smiled and reached over to place her hand over his. She adored her son and his strong sense of duty that was certainly lost to his older brother. Despite his attempts to remain stone-faced, Alicent knew her son too well, she knew what he truly longed for. 

She remembered how close he had been with Rhaenyra’s eldest child and she knew how devastated he had been when she had left for Dragonstone. Aemond had refused even meeting possible suitors for years and she could see his desire to shut her down as she mentioned the betrothal.

Until she had mentioned the Princess’ name.

It had shut him up quickly and he had stayed quiet, taking in the news with a contemplative expression that was all too familiar on her stoic boy’s face. 

But it was the slightest twitch of his lips upwards and the way he seemed to exhale in relief, every inch of his body losing its rigidity that told Alicent this was the right decision. Despite her ire for Rhaenerya and her children, the thought of an impending war was not something she wanted and it would clearly make her son happy, an emotion she did not often see him indulge in. 

She smiled and squeezed his hand. 

“They will arrive in a few day’s time. We will start preparations for the wedding as soon as possible.” 

With her parting words, Aemond was left to remain sitting, leaning on his elbow as his hand covered his mouth, trying to make sense of the emotions he was feeling that were so foreign to him. He wasn’t used to getting what he wanted. 

It didn’t seem real. 

~~

By the next morning, with an awkward passing smile to Ser Darick, she was headed towards the dining hall, her pace slow, as if she could delay greeting her family. She felt as though there was now an enormous target on her back, letting everyone she passed know what she had done the previous night. 

“Darling,”

She startled, placing a hand over her chest and plastering on a smile as she greeted her mother stiffly.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mother. I just… didn’t sleep well last night.”

Rhaenyra frowned and linked her arm through her daughter’s. “I know last night was difficult, but I think you’ll come around to it.”

She tensed, picturing the cruel, power hungry lord she’d be chained to for the rest of her life.

“Mother-”

“If you had let me finish, you would have heard that I have betrothed you to Aemond.”

She abruptly stopped in her tracks, almost causing her mother to trip over her own feet. Rhaenyra looked back at her daughter, expecting to see pure joy cross her features but she was confused to see the anguish in her expression.

She stepped towards her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand caressing down the length of her hair.

“Darling, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy with the news, I know how much you care for him.”

The lump in her throat grew so tight, she worried she’d choke to death before she could voice her mistake. The guilt that had already been lingering beneath her skin grew tenfold, threatening to knock her right off her feet.

“But… the Queen… she’d never agree.”

“She did.” Rhaenyra confirmed, still perplexed by her daughter’s reaction. “The King made his decree, something even she cannot dictate. With you as my heir, Aemond will be King Consort. I guess she realizes that was as good a consolation as she would get.”

It was real. She was to marry Aemond, the man she had longed for for years. She hadn’t even been reunited with him and she had already betrayed him. 

“Mother-” She paused, taking in a ragged breath, her hand holding tightly to her mother’s arm for stability. “I… I did something stupid.”

Rhaenrya’s face twisted into an expression of concern and she quickly ushered her daughter through the halls into the privacy of her chambers. She sat on her bed, her hand held tightly to her daughter’s as she tearfully explained what she had done the night before.

The first emotion to rise was a dangerous protective anger. 

Rhaenyra sprang to her feet, her hands clenched into fists and she grinded her teeth. 

“If that man did anything to pressure you-”

“Mother, stop. He didn’t do anything I didn’t ask him to do.” Her daughter assured her, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment at having to explain her indiscretion. 

Her words caused her mother to sigh and begin to pace. 

“Aemond can never- Alicent can never know about this.” 

“What?”

“This betrothal is tenuous, it took months for Alicent to give in, it took months for the decree to even make it to my father. The first sign of a crack, she’ll tear it apart, her and that lecherous father of hers.” Rhaenrya ranted.

Guilt burned through her veins, the thought that her stupid decision could ruin her family made her feel sick. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking. I just… the thought of being married to some old man-”

“Oh my love.” Rhaenyra took a seat next to her daughter, taking her hands in her, pressing a kiss to her shaking knuckles. “Do not blame yourself.”

“This was the path to peace and I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Rhaenyra spoke sternly, as if speaking it into existence with her mere words. She gave her daughter a weak smile, her actions all too familiar to her.  “You know I was about your age when I had the same idea of a rebellion against duty.”

Her daughter looked at her curiously, but Rhaenyra’s heavy sigh was indicative that she didn’t want to spare too many details of that fateful night when Daemon had taken her to a brothel that led her to bring Ser Criston to her bed. 

She shouldn’t have been surprised that her dragon of a daughter had rebelled just as similarly as she had all those years ago.  

A half-hearted plan began to form, one based on tenuous lies, but it was all she had. 

“We’ll switch rotations, you’ll never have to see Ser Darick again. We’ll go to King’s Landing, you will marry Aemond and they will all be none the wiser about what happened last night.”

“Will you tell Daemon?” She asked fearfully.

Rhaenyra let out an amused huff of laughter. “Not unless you want your guard tortured and torn limb from limb.”

Sensing her daughter’s lingering anxiety, she placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“No one will ever know.”

A shuddering breath escaped her. She prayed to the Seven her mother’s words were true. 

~~

Aemond stood tensely in the courtyard with his family, his hands firmly planted behind his back, the picture of royal stoicism. He just hoped no one could see how his fingers fidgeted behind his back, his nerves getting the better of him.

It had been six long years since he had seen her, since that last visit she had paid him where she had mourned his injury with him and kissed his cheek, a moment that left him wondering if he would live with a blush on his cheeks for the rest of his life.

An elbow to his side forced him out of his daze and he turned to see Aegon’s smug smirk as he gestured with his head at the oncoming carriage. 

“Creaming your pants yet?”

Aemond sneered at his brother, his jaw clenching as he turned himself to face straight ahead, steadily ignoring the amused smirk sent his way at his expense. 

His heart began to race as the carriage door opened, anticipation heavy on his shoulders. With every face he saw that wasn’t hers his impatience began to rise, holding back a glare to her brothers who exited first. 

He didn’t pay attention as his mother and Rhaenyra greeted each other awkwardly. He didn’t spare his nephews a second look. All he saw was her. He perked up the moment his gaze found her, his lips parting unknowingly, no longer holding strongly to the passive facade he had forced all day.

She had grown into a beautiful woman in the past six years. He had pictured this moment for so long and none of his late night fantasies could ever compare to the woman before him. 

He cleared his throat, straightening his posture as she stepped towards him. For years he had tried so hard to push down the feelings of longing that arose at the thought of her. For so long he had forced himself to believe she was nothing more than an enemy, a bastard girl that deserved nothing. 

But as she stood in front of him now, grown and more beautiful than he could have ever conceived, he realized it was all a farce. Every hateful thought he had forced into his head about her was nothing more than a lie. 

“Prince Aemond.” She greeted with a small curtsey, the small smile curling on her lips capturing his eye effortlessly. 

After a few seconds, he suddenly realized he hadn’t spoken a word, a brief flash of panic racing through him at the embarrassment that he had been merely staring at her like a fool.

“Princess.” He responded slightly bashfully as he bowed his head. 

The air surrounding them was awkward, both with so many things to say that had been left unsaid for years, complicated feelings that went unresolved for so long. 

But they were to be married in a mere week's time. The family drama that cut through their childhood bond did not need to be addressed, they had no choice but to accept the inevitable. 

He would be her husband no matter if he came to terms with the delusion he had forced for years. He would be her husband no matter if he had unlearned everything his mother and grandsire had instilled in him for years. 

~~

A welcome feast had been thrown in their honor. The table of royals had been a sight of strain as the ailing King gave his remarks to the room, welcoming his dear eldest daughter back to King’s Landing, lamenting the union of their divided family through the marriage of his first granddaughter and his second son. 

The stifling tension among their family remained throughout the celebration. With the secret weighing heavily on her, she felt as though she couldn’t even spare a glance at her betrothed without choking on the intense guilt she couldn’t shake. 

As the heir of the heir and a coveted Targaryen Princess, her mother’s only daughter, she was practically forced to remain on the dancefloor all night, indulging in the many noble Lords and their sons that offered their hand. 

“Mind if I cut in?”

She almost audibly sighed in relief at the sound of her brother’s voice, taking the place of the obnoxious boy who had accosted her for three dances. Since the feast began, she’d been approached by more Lords than she could count. 

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly as he began to dance with her.

“I’m fine.”

“You say the word and I’ll take you back to Dragonstone.”

“Jace.” She scolded, giving him a pointed look. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you, Sister.” He defended. “You’re about to marry the man that tormented us as children.”

She frowned, her eyes drifting to Aemond who sat at the head table, eyeing the dancing couples with disinterest. The sight of his eye patch was like a punch to the gut, the memory of what had happened that night was enough to bring tears to her eyes. 

“If I remember correctly, it was you, Lucerys and Aegon that tormented him as children.”

“He called us bastards.”

“And he lost an eye.” She reminded him tersely. “I’d say that more than evens the odds.”

Jace sighed heavily, the conversation weighing heavily on him. He wasn’t proud of his actions that night or how he had treated his uncle as children, but the guilt wasn’t enough to allow him to feel happy for this union. 

“He’s different now.” Her brother mumbled. “He seems… angry.”

“Can you blame him?” 

Jace sighed again to which she sent him a pointed look. It was as if it pained him to admit his guilt, to admit that their uncle wasn’t the villainous enemy he had built up in his head. He looked at his sister thoughtfully, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“Is this truly what you want?”

“What I want doesn't matter, Jace.”

“It does. Especially if you are to be married to a man that would make you miserable.” 

She remained quiet, contemplating his words with confliction. Misery was never a feeling that followed the thought of her uncle. She knew their marriage could be great, that they could foster a beautiful love, but only if he let it and only if he never discovered her betrayal. 

As the song ended and Jace moved from her side to spare a dance with an impatient Baela, she floundered for a moment, eyeing her brother and his betrothed for a moment, their delighted smiles, the clear fondness they held for each other stirring envy within her. 

She wondered if her own marriage would bear the same smiles. 

She looked around, dread settling inside her as her gaze passed over the many other noble sons that wanted their chance to dance with her. It was the last thing she wanted. 

With a heavy breath, she pushed her way through the throng of dancing couples and slunk out onto the balcony, hoping no one had noticed her swift exit and moved to follow. It had been years since she’d been in King’s Landing, it seemed the novelty of her family had not waned. 

It was as if everyone wanted a piece of her. She loathed it. 

Only a minute later, she heard footsteps approaching and she grit her teeth, her peace seeming to be taken from her as quickly as she had gained it. She turned her head and her eyes widened at the sight of Aemond stepping out onto the balcony. 

He startled slightly when he noticed her and smiled, a gesture that was weak and awkward, though it managed to bring an equally weak smile to her own lips.

“I didn’t mean to impose.” He began, sounding slightly stilted. 

“You aren’t.” She assured him. “I can leave if you wish to be alone.”

He eyed her for a long moment, as if surprised by her request, but he just shook his head and approached her slowly so he was standing at her side. 

“This is where I seem to find myself during these events, when I need to get away. I presume you are out here for the same reason.”

“Yes, I fear my feet have grown too tired to indulge in another dance.” She replied, hoping her words didn’t sound as dour to him as they did to her own ears.

Aemond seemed to grimace, the reminder of the many lords who had taken her hand for a dance stirring something within him he didn’t quite recognize. He didn’t care for it. 

“I probably shouldn’t have left, I just…”

“Needed a minute.” Aemond supplied as she trailed off. She nodded bashfully, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly hyper aware of her appearance as she realized this was the first time she had been alone with Aemond in years.

They were no longer childhood friends, they were betrothed. It was enough to drive her nerves to a boiling point where she could no longer meet his eye.

He stepped closer to her so he was leaning against the railing next to her, mirroring her position, an act that signaled ease.

“I had an interesting conversation with your brother.”

Her eyes widened. That was the last thing she had been expecting him to say. She was surprised Lucerys even listened to her request, that he had even attempted to approach the man he had scarred.

“I have a feeling that was your doing.”

She turned her head to meet his gaze and every fear she had that she had crossed the line faded in an instant as she saw the gratitude in his expression. 

“You have no obligation to forgive him.”

Aemond huffed out a laugh and bowed his head slightly. “Those were the exact words your brother said as well.”

She inwardly cursed her brother. He wasn’t supposed to say word for word what she had asked of him. 

“I just wished to solve the rift in our family. We can’t very well expect a happy marriage if we spend our time hating each other.”

“I never hated you.” Aemond responded quickly, his brows now furrowed as he moved in closer to her. “I may have.. complicated feelings for your brothers, but I… I never felt any of that towards you.”

She felt her breath hitch, her throat feeling tighter, as if she suddenly forgot to breathe with him so close to her. 

“Are you truly content with marrying a bastard?” 

Aemond flinched, her words so unexpected, he involuntarily took a step back, asif his instincts were telling him to run far from this conversation and never look back. He spoke her name softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ve whispered about our parentage our entire childhood. Am I to believe the sentiment now means nothing to you?” Her voice was cutting, but not with anger. She just sounded disappointed and somehow, Aemound found it so much worse.

“I never called you- it was never…” He stammered for a moment before sighing heavily, his teeth gritting as he looked out onto the horizon, desperately trying to find the words he needed to tell her she was never a part of the ire he held for her brothers. 

She watched him, a deep part of her feeling satisfaction to see him flounder as he was. She held much affection for Aemond, especially in their childhood, but his affliction for calling her brothers ‘Strong’ was always a source of hurt and caused many petty arguments between them before they had been separated.

“It was never about you.” He admitted quietly.

“They are my brothers, Aemond. I am not absolved from what you say about them.”

“But you are.” 

Her breath was stolen from her at the gravity of his words, at the sincerity she heard from him. She eyed him cautiously for a long moment, trying to gauge just what she felt for the man before her now, no longer the shy and sweet boy she had once known. 

She longed for him, but she wasn’t sure if the person she desperately desired even existed any more. 

But with how he looked at her, how hard he seemed to be trying to appease her, left her feeling defenseless against her own fears. 

“Why did you never write to me?” She asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, as though she regretted even posing the question. 

An expression crossed his face that she couldn’t recognize. He looked tortured, as if the mention of the part he played in their loss of friendship all those years ago brought him pain. The letters he received from her that were left unanswered had grated on him for years. 

Years ago, he had even written a letter to her to apologize for his silence, but his mother had caught him, tore the letter to shreds and warned him not to reach out to Rhaenyra’s bastard daughter, that he would only get hurt again if he dared to reconnect with them. 

“I never wished to ignore you.” He spoke softly. “It was just, after what had happened on Driftmark, my mother-”

“I understand.” She interrupted. The state of their family wasn’t the fault of themselves alone, their mothers had a complicated relationship they could barely comprehend. It was no fault of their own that they listened to the vitriol their mothers spoke in their years of hurt. 

“I never wanted to ignore you.” He repeated, as if he was desperate for her to believe him. 

The years of hurt that had cut her heart deeper and deeper with every unanswered letter she had sent slowly began to heal as she looked into his eye and saw the reverence with which he gazed at her. 

“I am willing to put the years behind me. If we are to be married, I don’t want there to be animosity between us.”

“There isn’t, at least on my part.” He assured her, looking to her hopefully, almost holding his breath for her next words.

“There is none on mine either.”

He nodded, the relief coursing through him feeling like the antidote to the years of guilt and sadness that surrounded his thoughts of her. His gaze met hers and the small smile, more genuine than the one she had greeted him with, caused his own to grow, a gesture that was no longer forced, but now one of hopeful excitement. 

The prospect of marriage no longer seemed so daunting.

~~

In the days leading up to the wedding, they didn’t see much of each other. 

She felt more lonely in the place she used to call home than she had expected. While she had her family, it was clear they were all on edge about the upcoming wedding and hadn’t exactly settled being in the Keep where the Hightower influence reigned supreme. 

She found herself taking Vermithor out daily to escape the tension among her family. 

The only peace she found was amongst the clouds, where the air was thinner, stealing the breath from her lungs. It was as if the reminder that there were things more dangerous than her own family was a comfort to her situation.

Suddenly, the earth shattering roar of a great beast sounded behind her, startling her. She turned quickly, her eyes widening as she saw the enormous figure of Vhagar taking to the skies, her gargantuan form heading towards her.

She watched the creature in awe, the great war dragon, centuries older than her, gliding through the skies like a beautiful relic. 

“It’s alright.” She soothed the dragon below her who grumbled at the unexpected presence of another. 

She kept her head turned, her eyes trailing the hulking figure that grew closer. A small smile curled on her lips as she spotted the silver hair of her betrothed atop his mighty dragon. 

As Vhagar approached, their eyes met, shared smiles passing between them. She gripped onto the reins in her hands and directed Vermithor forward, her large dragon diving towards the water below them. 

A trilled call from behind made her smile, knowing Vhagar was following suit. She looked over her shoulder, a warmth building within her as she saw Aemond guiding his dragon to follow her every move. 

The two of them didn’t share any words as they flew together in solidarity. She laughed as Vermithor let out a grumble of content. Her dragon suddenly titled, moving in closer to the dragon at his side, almost bumping the dragon beside them. 

She froze momentarily, gripping onto the reins tighter, preparing for an adverse reaction from the surly war dragon, but she could only watch in disbelief, her lips parting in awe as Vhagar crooned, a sound she had never heard from a dragon before, and bumped her head against Vermithor’s, a gesture that seemed almost affectionate.

She laughed, the warmth within her chest that had been stirring, now in full bloom. She turned to Aemond who watched the dragons with a small, amused smile. His head turned, their eyes meeting and as though a force greater than anything they had ever felt before, they couldn’t look away. 

As he looked at her, that lone blue eye encroached by a softness that was so familiar to her, she felt as though she was once again face to face with that boy she had loved all those years ago.

~~

Their wedding was a beautiful affair. 

No one would know it was a union between a fractured family. Though, it seemed as though their wedding was already stitching their broken family back together. Or it may have something to do with the amount of wine consumed. She noticed Helaena smiling happily as she danced with Jace. Aegon was drunkenly laughing with Luke who was smiling awkwardly, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else as Rhaena laughed on in his playful torment. 

Daemon sat next to his brother King, his smile soft as they spoke together intently. Her mother sat with Queen Alicent, the two of them deep in conversation, their hands finding each other as they descended into bouts of laughter like they were nothing more than two young girls again.

The sight made her happy. She knew her mother missed her old friend dearly and it looked as though Alicent had missed their friendship just as deeply. 

“Are you ready?” 

She turned on her heel to find Aemond, her husband, standing before her anxiously, his face a mask of anxious anticipation as he held his hand out to her. 

She swallowed and nodded stiffly, taking his hand as nerves as heavy as lead built within her. It was time for the bedding. Every happy thought in her head was gone in an instant as she suddenly could focus on nothing but the secret she kept from him. 

As he guided her out of the hall, her eyes met her mother, her face now serious, giving her a slow, knowing nod, reminding her to stay silent, to perform her duty and act as an untouched maiden. 

They walked in silence, the tension between them growing. 

They had been in a daze practically the entire day, their smiles shy yet glowing as they spoke their vows in the Sept, as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife. 

Their true first kiss had been years ago when they were merely eight years old. She had kissed him after he had yet another unsuccessful bout in the dragon pit and had stolen a chaste kiss as she brushed the dirt from his cheeks. 

She had never seen him turn so red before. 

They were a long way from those innocent children they had been.

“Are you alright?” He asked, startling her out of her long lost thoughts. She looked at him and was surprisingly relieved to see he looked just as nervous as she was sure she looked. 

“I am.” She assured him with an awkward smile. “Are you?”

“Yes.” He answered quickly, too quickly to portray any calmness about their current predicament. 

Their hearts were racing as they stepped inside their new marital chambers. She immediately moved to the vanity, working on removing the many pins from her hair that had been pinching her all night.

She sighed dramatically as the pressure on her skull was relieved and the sound of an amused hum, an almost sounding laugh, caught her attention. She looked over her shoulder to see Aemond watching her thoughtfully. 

The sight of him, the small upturn of his lips, the desire in his eye, should have stirred her own, but all she could feel was all consuming nerves. 

Tonight she’d have to lie to him. 

“You look beautiful.” 

His words startled her, her eyes widening slightly, not having expected the compliment. She smiled bashfully, trucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously as her gaze fell to the floor between them.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t told you that yet tonight. I haven’t told you since you’ve been back.” 

She was surprised by how forward he was, his words so sincere yet so different from the man she knew stood before her. 

It seemed she wasn’t the only one who longed for this marriage to be one of peace, to heal the wounds that had been so deeply ingrained in their family for so long. 

He approached her slowly, the look in his eye one she had never seen before. Desire. He reached out, his hand moving to her jaw, his touch light as he held her as if he were afraid she would flee. 

Her hands almost shook as she laid them across his strong chest, beginning to slowly undo the intricate buckles that covered him. 

He let her undo each one, the sound of his own heavy breath betraying his nerves. Once his chest laid bare before her did he finally pull her in close to him, his gaze locked on hers as he leaned in close before finally kissing her. 

He was soft, though as she responded to his kiss, he met her with fervor, portraying every ounce of pent up desire he’d unknowingly held for her for so long. He kissed her as if she were the very air he breathed. 

Her mind was a mess of thoughts, swirling with desire and agony as she desperately wished his lips had been the first she kissed so passionately, that his touch that tightened on her waist as he undid the laces on her gown, were the first hands to touch her so intimately. 

She couldn’t break herself from the thoughts as they moved to the bed. She couldn’t stop the heavy feeling of regret that tainted every one of his touches and fervent kisses. 

Her chest heaved, her guilt portraying as nerves for a perceived first bedding. Aemond ran his hands up the length of her thighs, his touch, which should have caused butterflies to fly rampant within her, only reminded her of the man who had touched her previously. 

He kissed her softly as he settled himself atop her. 

“I’m sorry… this- it might hurt you.”

The claw of guilt inside her turned into a fist that clenched tightly and she squeezed her eyes shut. 

“It’s alright.” She breathed out.

He kissed her again though the gesture, filled with so much affection, did little to soothe her as he intended to. 

She kept her eyes on the ceiling, the guilt keeping her from looking at her husband, from seeing the eagerness in his gaze as he took her for the first time.

He eased inside of her slowly, the sound of his breath stuttering catching her attention, almost enough to incite her own arousal if her mind wasn’t tainted with worry, of suddenly being found out and ruined before she even got to enjoy her marriage.

With hatred for herself burning hotly within her she mimicked a sound of discomfort as he settled inside her. 

“Are you alright?” He asked slightly breathlessly, his gaze looking down at her in concern. 

She nodded stiffly, her throat tight as she met his eye. She soon wondered if the guilt would stop her breathing before he could even finish. 

She tried her best to forget about the glaring guilt, she tried not to think about her night with Ser Darick, of the man who touched her before that shouldn’t have. She should’ve been in ecstasy to finally be laying with the man she had dreamed of for years, but as he moved inside her, she couldn’t help but wince, her lack of arousal keeping her from enjoying what she had desired for so long. 

It at least helped with her charade of the innocent maiden who feared the marriage bed. 

She watched her husband with barely contained emotion as his eye closed in pleasure, his lips parted with heavy breaths, the sound of his quiet moans had her wishing she could go back in time and never invite that Knight into her bed. 

As she watched him find his pleasure, as he stuttered out her name in delight, she knew she could never hurt him. She could never reveal her secret for she could never cause him pain. 

Above her, Aemond stiffened, his hips losing momentum, his grip on her hips tightening as he lost himself to his pleasure, a loud grunt falling from his lips as he reached his peak. 

She exhaled loudly, an empty feeling settling within her, the guilt and anger at herself melding into self-loathing despair. 

“I hurt you.” He breathed out, sounding pained as his hand cradled her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tear she hadn’t realized had fallen. 

“I’m ok.” She assured her, though with how stilted her voice sounded, she knew he didn’t believe her. 

He pulled out of her slowly and moved to lay next to her, his worried gaze never leaving hers. He moved his hand to rest at the back of her neck, gently urging her forward so his forehead could rest against hers. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and she felt her eyes sting with more tears, his affection stirring the loathing that lashed her like a whip.

She shook her head and leaned into him, grasping onto his hand, holding tightly. 

“I wish we could have had this earlier.” She whispered, the only admittance she could allow herself. 

Aemond smiled softly and kissed her again, his touch gentle and careful, as if he worried about hurting her more. 

“So do I.” 

He held her as she struggled to sort out of her emotions, unaware of the torment within her. 

~~

By the next morning, she woke from a tumultuous sleep to find herself alone in bed. 

Her heart began to race as she propped herself up, dread coursing within her veins as she suddenly feared the worst. That, somehow in the night, Aemond had figured out the truth and left in a rage, leaving her behind before she could even enjoy what they could’ve had. 

“Good morning.”

The sound of his voice broke her out of her dark thoughts and she turned abruptly to see her new husband strolling in through the open balcony doors. He smiled lightly, looking slightly bashful to see her in such a vulnerable state, as if he hadn’t laid with her just hours before. 

“The maids brought breakfast.” 

She nodded and moved to peel the covers off her, hiding her wince at the flare of discomfort at the back of her thigh from where she had given herself a small cut after her husband had fallen asleep, using the small wound to stain the sheets with her blood that would not fall between her tainted legs. 

She stood from the bed, oblivious to how Aemond’s eye followed the length of her body with intrigue as she reached for her robe. They shared small smiles, the air of awkwardness lingering as they stepped out onto the balcony together. 

She immediately moved to pour herself a cup of tea, taking a much needed sip of the hot drink, praying it would soothe her frayed nerves. As Aemond took a seat next to her, she poured a second cup, adding a spoonful of honey before sliding it over to him. 

His gaze remained on her, as if in awe, as she took another sip. 

Feeling his eye on her, she turned, her brows raising in question at the beseeched expression on his face. 

“Is everything alright?” She asked slowly and he nodded, clearing his throat, leaning his elbow on his knee as his curled fist covered his lips, covering the smile that began to grow. 

“You remembered how I take my tea in the morning.” He spoke softly. 

She felt her stomach twist, this time for reasons completely different from the regret that had been staunchly drowning her since the night before. 

“Of course I did.” She said quietly with a shrug. “I wouldn’t forget anything about you.”

Her words, the knowledge that she had thought of him just as he had thought of her, had longed for him just as he had longed for her all those years they were separated, had a warmth spreading through him he had never felt before. 

Any trepidation he had about the marriage, any qualms he had about Rhaenyra taking her place on the throne, of his nephews back in King’s Landing, shattered in an instant. Everything else seemed so inconsequential to him now that he married her, now that he got to call her his wife. 

He reached out, slightly hesitantly, his heart racing as he placed his hand over hers. 

Their eyes met and it was as if an understanding passed between them, a final puzzle piece falling into place. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

She nodded quickly and smiled as he leaned in. Their lips met in a gentle, unhurried kiss that was filled with quiet affection, the meeting of a new husband and wife who had just come to an understanding, who had put away years of complicated feelings and settled to live as the pair of childhood companions that felt nothing but love for each other.

As he kissed her, she forced herself to move past the pain in the back of her thigh. Under his assured yet gentle touch, she forced her guilt and regret to the depths of her mind, desperate to find peace with him. 

~~

Over the next couple of months, their marriage flourished in ways neither one of them had expected. Their time spent together had seemed to heal every slight from their childhood, leaving the both of them feeling lighter, no longer shrouded in the guise of hatred. 

It would take time for Aemond to come around to her brothers, but he was finding it easier to let go of the fury that used to permeate every thought of them. They were by no means friends, but it was at least becoming easier to simply look at them, to exist among them. 

One morning, as Rhaenyra and Alicent took their morning tea together in the gardens, they caught sight of the newly married couple, arm in arm, barely an inch of space between them. 

“They are quite the match.” Alicent remarked with a smile as she looked at her son, the easy expression on his face a far cry from the scowl that had become all too familiar from her second son. 

“They are.” Rhaenyra agreed, relief flowing through her as she heard her daughter’s laugh from across the yard, watching as she leaned into her husband. 

She was more than thankful her dear daughter’s secret remained. 

“I am sorry I took so long to agree to their union.” Alicent admitted almost shyly. “To see my Aemond as he is now, so carefree, so… unburdened with her. I regret that my hesitation caused him to suffer for longer than he needed to.”

Rhaenyra frowned and reached out, taking her friend’s hand, curling her fingers around her own. 

“There is nothing to forgive. They are happy now… we are happy now. That is what matters.”

Alicent smiled, her eyes filled with emotion she hadn’t let herself reveal for so long. She squeezed Rhaenyra’s hand in silent comfort. 

“I have heard the maids gossiping. It sounds as though it will not be long until there is a new babe to care for.” 

Rhaenyra’s jaw dropped, a scandalized laugh escaping her as she looked at her friend, usually so demure, in disbelief. 

“Oh gods, do not let them know they are being gossiped about.” 

Alicent giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. 

“I would never. I do not think my son would ever return to court if that were the case.”

“They are late to every dinner. Surely they know it is not much of a secret what they are doing.” Rhaenyra commented, descending them both into laughter once more.

While the both of them laughed as though they were young girls again, the two of them couldn’t help but feel as though an enormous weight had been lifted from their shoulders, allowing them to breathe easier. 

The union between their children gave them what they needed, what they were desperately hoping for. The fact that their children were just as happy with each other was everything they needed to heal themselves. 

They soon lost sight of their children and, judging by the gossip they heard from the maids, they thought they preferred not knowing exactly what they were getting up to.  

It was for the better because the second Aemond had enough of the desire raging through his body, he had dragged his wife back to their chambers, only a mere hour after they had left it for the morning. 

He couldn’t get enough of her. 

He could barely get through his day without succumbing to his fire that burned hotly for her. Their walk in the garden, their duties for the rest of the day were long forgotten as he took her roughly atop her vanity, the wooden legs shaking beneath their passionate affair.

“Aemond!” She called out, her hands tightening at the back of his head where she had fistfulls of his hair. He groaned and quickened his pace, thrusting into her with the ferocity of an animal. 

Over their time together, she had been able to relax around him, thinking less and less of that horrible night with her guard that could have ruined everything. She allowed herself to fall into him, to let herself think of nothing but him, and she couldn’t have been more thankful.

He took her daily, their union fiercely passionate, the two of them quickly becoming insatiable for each other. 

“Fuck, darling, you are perfect.” Aemond growled, his hips never faltering in their harsh rhythm as he took her roughly. 

The way he took her now and had been for weeks was a far cry from the tepid and shy man she had seen on their wedding night. 

Cries fell from her lips as she desperately held him, her only tether in the haze of pleasure he now could so easily spiral her to. 

“Don’t stop.” She begged breathlessly, her head falling back to her shoulders, her eyes shut tightly as he fucked her so hard it was all she could do to hold and enjoy the ride. 

“Never, my love, I'll never stop.” He promised her, the desperation in his voice clear. He panted heavily as his hips moved with precision, eager to reach that spot he knew ruined her completely. 

He longed to see her unravel, he longed to hear her scream for him. It had quickly become the greatest thing he had ever been fortunate enough to witness and his greatest accomplishment. 

His grip on her hips tightened, his awed gaze fluttering over her form, eager to take in every inch of her. 

Her toes curled, a high pitched moan sounding as her body tensed, as she felt herself creeping up on the crest of blinding pleasure. 

“That’s it love, cum for me. Do it for me, I need it.” He rambled, his voice rough, causing shivers to race down her spine. 

Her nails dug into his shoulders and his answering grunt of pleasure undid her completely. She screamed his name, her hips jolting against his as she reached her peak. Aemond held her tightly, his arms moving around her back to hold him to her as his hips stuttered, becoming frantic in his final moments.

“Fuck… fuck!” He yelled as he felt her tighten around him.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, planting sloppy kisses along the delicate slope before he felt the curling of hazy pleasure unfurl within him. 

His eye squeezed shut, his jaw fell slack as a breathless moan escaped him as he came. Small cries left him, his hips continuing to move, losing their intensity as he spilled inside her. 

Their shared heavy breaths echoed throughout the room as neither one of them moved an inch. He continued to hold her tightly, wrapped around her completely. He shivered against her as she began to caress the length of his back, her soft hands moving up and down gently, causing him to sigh in delight. 

After a few long moments, as they caught their breath, he pulled away, nudging his nose against hers, smirking lightly at the sight of her so thoroughly spent. He kissed her assuredly, his tongue tangling with hers, his touch still firm, as if he were still desperate for her. 

They parted with the need for air, soft smiles shared between the two, almost bashful, as if they hadn’t just fucked debauchedly as though they were in a brothel. He pulled out of her and began to clean the mess between her thighs, delighting in the way she’d twitch against his touches, thoroughly overstimulated from his hands. 

“Do you remember when you put jam in my hair?” He asked suddenly, causing her to look down at him with a raised brow in disbelief. 

“You are thinking about that now?”

The childhood memory was not forgotten but she certainly hadn’t been thinking of it after he had ravished her.

“With how you were just pulling on it, I’m beginning to think you have some kind of vendetta against my hair.” He remarked with a smirk as he pulled his breeches back up and grabbed his discarded doublet that she’d torn off him. 

She laughed and shook her head, her eyes trailing his every move, pouting almost reflexively as he dressed himself, covering up that beautiful body from her eager gaze. 

“It is beautiful. Perhaps I am trying to sabotage you out of jealousy.” She smiled coyly.

“Jealousy?” He echoed in disbelief. “Darling, you are the most stunning woman in the realm, you have little to be jealous of.”

She felt her cheeks heat as she half-heartedly rolled her eyes. Since they had become more comfortable with each other, his compliments had been never ending, never failing to make her swoon each and every time. 

“So, same time tomorrow?” She joked, to which he snorted and looked over at her, nothing but adoration in his eye. 

He stepped toward her again, pulling the fallen sleeve of her dress back in place.

“Oh, darling, I will have you again tonight, surely.” He drawled, reveling in the way she seemed to shiver against him, already eagerly anticipating the night and agonizing over the hours between. 

He kissed her again and leaned his forehead against hers, as if he needed a moment longer with her before parting from her side. 

“I will find you once I am finished.” He assured her. 

As he left her to continue with his duties for the day he had steadily been ignoring, she finished cleaning herself up and fixing her disheveled hair. 

Her smile remained as she righted her dress, her legs trembling slightly as she made slow steps across their chambers. She just knew Baela would be dragging their salacious actions out of her the second she saw her. 

The giddy feeling within her crumbled into dust the moment she opened the door and came face to face with the one person she was content to never see again.

Her face fell, a look of horror overtaking her features.

“Ser Darick.” 

Her voice shook as she greeted him, which seemed to only deepen his smug grin. 

“Princess.” He bowed dutifully. “It has been too long.”

The sarcasm that laced his words cut her deeply and she averted her gaze, her heart racing wildly. The memories of that fateful night, the guilt that she had been able to push into the depths of her mind resurfaced with the force of a punch, almost enough to knock her off her feet.

She didn’t spare the man another look as she took off down the hall, her face crumbling into a deep frown as frustrated tears filled her eyes.

He would ruin everything.

~~

Her hand was clutched to her mother’s, her retelling of the day striking a need for her motherly touch. 

“I will take care of it.”

“How?”

“I will find a way.”

She remained silent, her face twisted with fear and disgust.

“What if he knows?”

“He doesn’t.”

“You cannot know that. Why would he be reassigned to me? Surely this is some plot to ruin me.” She rambled, her worried mind not allowing her to think straight. 

“The guards are spread thin here. We needed more help so guards from Dragonstone were requested here, but I… I had no idea he would be assigned to you.”

She sighed heavily, her mother’s words doing little to reassure her.

“I can’t keep lying to him.”

“Darling-”

“I love him and I can’t stand the fact that our marriage is built on a lie.”

Rhaenyra clenched her jaw, her teeth pulling her bottom lip tightly. Before she could even attempt to soothe her daughter the door opened and Daemon stepped into their shared chambers. 

Both women tensed, sitting up straighter in their seats at his unexpected arrival. 

His eyes flitted between both women curiously, immediately sensing the tension in the room.

“Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine, my love.”

His wife’s words did little to soothe the awkward energy in the room.

“What are you two discussing?”

“Guard rotations.” 

Daemon looked at his step-daughter with narrowed eyes, the topic one he had not expected. His instincts were telling him something was wrong, that he was being lied to. 

“Is someone not to your liking?”

“Ser Darick has been assigned as her guard and we hoped we could find someone else for her.”

“Why?”

“No specific reason-” Rhaenyra attempted to diffuse the situation, but he had seen right through it, he knew something was amiss.

“I don’t understand. Ser Darick was your guard for years, he was loyally by your side, he watched over you, he cared for-”

Daemon’s sentence stopped abruptly, as if he had suddenly realized the double meaning in his words. His eyes narrowed, the angry fire burning within him so hotly she had to turn away from his gaze. He looked to his wife, as if needing confirmation to the thought burning in his brain.

When Rhaenyra sighed disappointedly, her gaze moving away from his, he felt as though he had the answer to the horrible explanation he had conjured.

Within a second he unsheathed his sword, causing his daughter to flinch and Rhaenyra to get to her feet. 

“Daemon-”

“Where is he?”

“You need to calm down-”

“I will strike every limb from his body and string him-”

“Please stop!” She yelled, stopping her father’s detailed description of the torture he would inflict on the man he believed to have committed an egregious crime.

“You cannot seriously be protecting the man that took advantage of you. He touched you, he raped you! He should be fed to our dragons!”

“He didn’t rape me!” 

Daemon remained quiet, taking in her words slowly. His face twisted, an expression of confusion soon morphing into dread and she shifted in her seat under his intense glare.

“You didn’t.” He spat. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“Daemon, please.”

“You let that guard into your bed?”

She leaned her elbows on her knees, her head falling into her hands as she breathed heavily, embarrassment washing over her like a tidal wave that threatened to drown her. She would surely welcome it. 

“It was a mistake.” Rhaenyra chimed in, trying to ease the fury in her husband. 

“Of course it was a fucking mistake.” Daemon bellowed. “How could you be so simple minded?”

She raised her head, staring plainly at the man before her. She’d heard about his tales before he had married her mother, the Prince of Flea Bottom, the many times he had been banished by the King and he had the audacity to shame her about who she bedded.

“Your hypocrisy is astounding.” 

“Don’t be cute.” Daemon scolded. He tightened his grip on his sword, his anger still burning. “I’m still going to kill him.”

“You are going to do no such thing. Rumors will spread if a guard mysteriously winds up murdered. We will solve this quietly and reassign him so he will never lay his eyes on you again and you will never tell a soul about what happened that night.” Rhaenyra countered, her eyes locked onto her daughter sternly.

She could only nod, the guilt she’d steadily buried in the face of her happiness, in the bliss she’d found with Aemond, now clawing its way forward, threatening to tear her apart piece by piece.

~~

“There you are.” Aemond greeted her with a smile, bending down to press a kiss to the top of her head. Their chambers had been empty when he returned from training and he knew the first place to look for her was Helaena’s chambers. 

Her heart skipped as she saw him, her mind racing, screaming at her to blurt out her secret, to spill everything that was weighing heavily on her, darkening her soul, but she found no words could escape her. 

She smiled stiffly, forcefully pushing past the overwhelming regret and sadness that threatened to choke her. 

“Are you finished with your training?”

He nodded as he took a seat next to her, his soft smile directed to the children who played at his feet. 

“I am and I suddenly found myself in desperate need of my wife’s company.” 

“Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but we were just about to leave.”

“Leave? Where are you going?”

“We are going to the markets in Flea Bottom.” Helaena answered happily, oblivious to the way her brother’s expression darkened at her words. 

Aemond looked to her desperately, as if pleading with her to tell him his sister was mistaken, that she wasn’t going to roam the dangerous streets of Flea Bottom. 

She sighed, taking his hand in hers.

“She wishes to find gifts for the twins’ name day.” She spoke softly so the children would not hear. 

“Send servants.”

“She wants to pick them out herself.”

Aemond exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. He startled when his wife stood from the couch and he reached out for her hand, but she was already walking away. 

“Come with us brother.” Helaena offered, oblivious to the torment unfurling in her protective sibling. “We will be taking guards, but we will be more protected with you at our side.” 

She smiled widely and linked her arm through Helaena’s, looking to her faithful husband.

“Well, you heard her.”

Aemond let out a long sigh, the thought of his beloved and his dear sister venturing down the dangerous streets of King’s Landing loathsome, but with one look at his wife’s stare, he was powerless to refuse her wishes. 

“Just for a short visit.”

The wide smile she gave in return was all he needed to stop himself from refusing the offer. 

He followed behind the two women, their group of guards walking behind him faithfully as they made their way into the city. 

Aemond kept his eyes fleeting between his sweet sister and his beloved wife as they perused each vendor they passed. He admired his wife as her face lit up at the sight of a beautiful trinket that had caught her eye. He admired the way she smiled at each vendor, politely asking them questions, dignifying their compliments about her beauty and kindness. 

She was truly a marvel, the most beautiful sight to behold. 

“Aemond, look, isn’t this beautiful?” Helaena called out to him, breaking him from his trance as she held up a butterfly figurine. “I think Jaehaera will find this absolutely divine, she’s always admiring the butterflies in the garden.”

“She will love it.” He assured her with a small smile, following her as the ever protective brother he was as they ventured to the next vendor, caught up with another bout of glasswork she had found. 

He felt as though he had only taken his eyes off his wife for a minute when the yelling started. A fight had broken out between two vendors and the crowd around them had responded to the sudden surge of violence with equal measure.

His arm immediately went around Helaena who cowered and covered her ears as the crowd yelled and became insufferably loud. He briefly made eye contact with a man in the crowd, the lowborn recognizing the pair of royals before him and, as most disparities of power result, decided to direct his anger towards them. 

Aemond guided Helaena into the capable hands of her guard as he unsheathed his sword menacingly, warning the crowd not to try their luck with the famed one-eyed dragon prince. 

The crowd soon became raucous, screaming, shouting and pushing at anyone they could get their hands onto. 

Aemond quickly spotted his sister being scurried away from the action, though his stomach dropped when he could not spot his wife. 

He yelled her name, the sound lost in the chaos of the riotous crowd. He pushed people out of the way carelessly, elbowing his way back to where he had last seen her. His heart dropped at the sight of her absence. He became more desperate, his voice sounding weak as he stood atop a vendor’s booth, trying to catch a glimpse of her.

The longer he did not see her, the more fear encased every inch of him.

~~

A muffled scream left her as a sturdy hand latched over her mouth, a strong arm wrapped around her waist as she was carried away from the action of the riots ensuing in the streets of King’s Landing. 

She hadn’t seen Helaena or Aemond. As soon as the fighting started she had been dragged away, seemingly against her will. She had thought it was a member of the King’s Guard but as the hand stayed steadily over her mouth and the painful arm carrying her through the streets of Flea Bottom refused to recede, she became more and more fearful of who had latched onto her.

The grip on her slackened and she quickly pushed her way out of the grip, her expression a mask of derision as she faced who had manhandled her so roughly. Her face fell, an icy feeling of dread spreading through her veins as she met the gaze of Ser Darick. 

He sneered and gripped her arm again, pulling her into his side. 

“Stop struggling, Princess, we don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.” He warned, though it sounded more like a threat as he pulled her along with him back to the Red Keep.

She remained still, allowing him to drag her forward, her face passive as they made their way through the halls of the Keep. She felt equal parts relief and dread as he forced her into her chambers. 

He slammed the door shut behind them, his face dark with anger, his hand still sturdily gripping her arm.

“You have brought me back, now leave.” She ordered harshly as she wrenched her arm out of his grip.

“Not until we talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about.” 

“You invited me into your bed, let me fuck you and then ignored me. I deserve to know why.” He argued angrily. Her face twisted with derision, at the reminder of that night she had acted so carelessly.

“I am truly sorry for how I treated you, it was wrong of me to take such liberties. But the night we had was simply a night of desperation. I am married now. I love my husband and you need to move on.” 

He scoffed, looking at her with nothing but derision.

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What?”

“That night. It didn’t mean nothing to you. It couldn’t have.” 

He stepped towards her, forcing her to take frantic steps backwards, but he was quicker. He gripped onto her shoulders, his touch strong and harsh. 

“Let go of me.” She hissed through gritted teeth, her heart racing, the beginnings of dread seeping through her, chilling the blood that ran through her veins. 

“I know you felt something that night. No one could fake that passion. I know you feel something for me. I know you have for years.” 

Her eyes widened, staring back at the man completely dumbfounded as she squirmed under his hands.

“You have gone mad.”

“I gave you pleasure that night, Princess. I made you cum under me. I made you moan for me.” He spoke earnestly, making her wince and shake her head, desperately trying to pry his hands off her.

“It meant nothing.”

“Of course it did!” 

“Get off!” She yelled as she pushed at his chest, causing him to stumble a few paces back. 

The door suddenly slammed open, her breathless and worried husband storming into their chambers. He seemed to deflate in relief when he saw her, every ounce of fear dissipating in a second, though when he noticed the guard in their chambers, his expression twisted into confusion.

“Are you hurt?” He asked worriedly, stepping towards her hurriedly, assuming she had been injured in the fight and that was the reason the guard was in the room with her alone. 

“No, I’m fine.” She assured him, her voice quivering. 

He grabbed her trembling hands in his, looking over her in concern briefly before his untrusting eye turned towards the guard who couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

The anger in his gaze did not go unnoticed by Aemond who stiffened, his hand reaching for the sword at his hip instinctively. 

The guard smiled sardonically to his wife, the sight setting the blood in his veins on fire. 

“Princess.” He bowed and turned on his heel, leaving the room. The fact that he did not address Aemond only angered him further. 

“Who was that?” Aemond questioned the second the door closed behind him. 

“He was my guard at Dragonstone.” She answered monotonously, her chest aching in fear as her waking nightmare unfurled before her.

“Did he hurt you?” Aemond’s anger flared as he looked at her questioningly, his gaze searching her frantically for any indication that her guard had stepped out of place. 

“No, he didn’t hurt me.” She spoke quietly, omitting mentioning the bruises she was sure would be blooming on her arm from his harsh grip.

He stared at her quizzically, knowing deep within him that something was wrong. The look on her face, one of muted horror, was striking and the fact that she couldn’t meet his eye had worry stirring within him so strongly his hand twitched towards his sword once again, ready to strike down the mysterious guard at her command. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I-”

“Yes, you’ve said that, but I do not believe you.” He interrupted, fighting between his confusion and his worry as she flinched at his harsh tone. He wanted to reach out to her, but something held him back, something he didn’t quite understand. 

She wrapped her arms around herself as she turned away from him. He called her name slowly, his critical eye never leaving her. 

“Who is he?”

“He is no one.”

His heart raced and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach as a multitude of answers swirled through his mind, none of them bringing any kind of peace.

“Do you love him?” He asked abruptly, jumping to the worst conclusion he could have possibly conjured.

“No, of course not!” She yelled, perturbed by the mere question. 

“Then why does he look at you as if you have a history?”

“I swear to you, Aemond, he is nothing to me.”

“So nothing has happened between you two?”

She remained quiet, her mind racing with a million different answers to the question, most lies, but only one truth, the one that spoke the loudest.

Her silence rang loud in the room and Aemond’s face shifted instantly, first to shock, then disbelief, then betrayal, and finally to fury. 

“You… you and him…” He startled slowly, trying to find the words to explain the blinding anger that overtook him so greatly it soon became hard to breathe.

The images that his mind created, visions of her tangled in the sheets with that man, her soft touch on his body, her sweet moans he relished given to him. 

“Aemond-”

“You fucked him?”

“Please-”

“Answer me. Did you fuck him?”

Her breath caught in her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears. Her world was crashing down around her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. 

“Yes.” She breathed out weakly.

A bitter laugh left him, a sound filled with so much anger it made her wince, tears beginning to burn in her eyes. 

“Aemond, please, I can explain-” She began as she approached him, reaching out for his hand, but he yanked his arm away from her, staring back at her with such vitriol it was as if a dagger had been lodged in her chest.

“Explain what? That you have been lying to me this entire time? That I married a whore?” 

Her eyes widened, his words striking her harshly. She had seen him angry before, she had seen him vindictive before, but it had never been directed at her, he had never spoken to her with such hatred, as if he were eager to hurt her. 

“It was before our marriage. I have never even looked at another man since I knew you were to be my husband.”

He shook his head, his chest heaving, an ache settling deep within him. Jealousy tore through him roughly, all he could think of was her tangled passionately with another man, and it made him see red. 

She reached for him again and he shut her down with a vicious scowl. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

She breathed heavily, her own anger beginning to rise at his stubborn refusal to listen to her. She knew if he ever found out it would cause a rift, but she had thought after the time they had spent together, that what they shared would be too special to let a mistake from the past rupture the beautiful love they had carved for themselves.

“Are you serious?” She snapped, her patience wearing thin the longer he directed his fury towards her. 

She thought of Daemon’s reaction, of Aemond’s disgusted scowl, and it made her seethe. If she had been a man no one would be batting an eye and she wanted to scream at how entirely unfair life was simply because of what lay between her legs.

“I had one night and I am penalized but you can do whatever you want with your body and I am just supposed to accept it. As if you haven’t followed Aegon to the brothels.”

“I am not my brother!” He yelled fiercely, his overt anger making her flinch. 

She stayed quiet, her anger receding as quick as it had come, leaving her with nothing but guilt. She knew she had crossed a line. 

Anybody could see how different the Targaryen brothers were, how much more accustomed to duty and honor Aemond was, how he refused to defile himself and shame his family as Aegon continued to do. 

It was deadly silent between them, neither one of them with anything productive or relatively polite to say to the other. 

With a clenched jaw, Aemond stormed out of the room without sparing her a look. 

His breath left him in uneven pants as he stormed down the hall, unaware of where he was headed. 

Images of her, his sweet wife, his beloved, wrapped up in another man’s arms replayed in his head torturously. He felt his eye sting with emotion he desperately attempted to hold at bay. 

He loved his wife, but this was agony. 

He loved her, but she had lied to him. 

He didn’t know what to make sense of the situation. He didn’t even know what to make sense of what he was feeling. 

He was at a loss as to what his marriage held. 

The only thing he could make out in the whirlwind of thoughts was pain. 

~~

He avoided her for the rest of the day and the next, choosing to sleep in his old chambers instead of returning to her. 

He couldn’t bear to face her, not after what he had yelled at her so callously, not after he had called her a whore, not after he had spent hours picturing her with that guard. 

It was agonizing to think of. 

He avoided dinner, giving flimsy excuses to the maids that dared to approach him. 

He sat out on the balcony of his old chambers, gazing out sightlessly into the night before him. The sound of his chamber doors opening had him rolling his eye, looking over his shoulder at the intruder with a scowl.

Aegon gave him an annoyed look. 

“You know you have mother worried sick? She sent me to find you, you twat.”

Aemond remained quiet as he turned to look back out onto the horizon. 

“What are you doing out here?” Aegon asked as he took a seat at his side, causing him to sigh loudly, not bothering to hide his disdain for his presence. “I figured you would be busy fucking your wife. You seem to do little else lately.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he steadily refused to meet his brother’s eyes.

“What? Has your paradise been ruined already?” Aegon joked, though when he received no reaction from Aemond, not even anger, he knew something was truly wrong. “What happened?” He asked, sounding more sincere than even he expected.

Aemond remained quiet for a long moment, dreading to say the words aloud, as if it made them more real than they already were. 

“She had a dalliance with a guard.”

“She has been unfaithful?”

“It was before she came back to King’s Landing, before the wedding.” He mumbled.

Aegon was quiet for a few seconds as he took in his brother’s words and eventually shrugged nonchalantly. 

“So?” 

Aemond glared coldly at his brother, the flippant response sparking his fury once more. 

“Finding out your wife let another man into her bed isn’t exactly comforting news.”

“It happened before she was your wife and, judging by how infatuated she seems with you, I’m willing to bet it happened before she knew you were the one she was to marry.” 

Aemond sighed loudly, no matter the circumstances, no matter whatever explanation he could think of, it did nothing to quell the green eyed beast that took over him. He had grown to deeply love his wife, the girl he had latched onto in childhood, the only one who seemed to root for him. 

The thought of her in the clutches of lust with anyone that wasn’t him was enough to incite his anger. 

He had never had a passionate, loving embrace. He certainly didn’t count what he endured on his thirteenth nameday, the moment that brought him nothing but shame. To think that she could so easily bring someone into her bed, have someone touch her lovingly, bring her pleasure, just as he could to her, stirred a fury in him he could barely comprehend.

“So, she betrayed you, what happens next?” Aegon asked, a smarmy smirk growing on his lips, striking Aemond’s anger before he could even speak of the depravities that mingled in his mind. “How about I take you down to the Silk Street and you can get back at her.”

In the blink of an eye, Aemond was on his feet, his face drawn tightly with fury, his angry glare locked onto his brother who laughed raucously at his reaction.

“Easy!” He yelled, shoving his brother’s hands off of him that gripped his shirt, ready to throttle him. “Gods, you have no sense of humor.”

“You know you don’t have to be here.” Aemond growled, sending his brother a final fierce scowl that silently threatened him of saying anything untoward about his marriage, before settling himself back in his seat. 

Aegon watched his brother carefully, noting the agony within him and he sighed.

“Look, you clearly care about her. She is your wife and you two have been able to build a bond which is more than many can say.”

Aemond looked at him, surprised by his honest words, surprised that he wasn’t slurring as he spoke. 

“Are you willing to give that up for a mistake she made before you loved each other?”

He looked taken aback at the question. The mere thought of letting her go was unfathomable. The thought was so horrible it turned his stomach more than his jealousy ever could. 

“I cannot stop picturing her with him.” He admitted quietly, almost shamefully. 

Aegon sighed, while he didn’t have anyone he loved as Aemond loved his wife, he had to admit, it didn't sound easy to picture the woman you loved in the arms of another man.

“So, let’s say you give up, what then? She marries someone else and warms their bed instead?” 

Aemond grit his teeth and sent a wicked glare to his brother who held his hands up in surrender. 

“Just think about it, brother. Get over it or let her go.” Aegon stated bluntly before parting from his side, leaving him to bury his head in his hands, a long slow breath falling past his lips. 

He didn’t want to let her go, he didn’t want to end what they had, he didn’t want to lose her. 

He breathed deeply again, forcing the green-eyed monster within him to retreat, to let him think clearly for once. 

He pictured her face, her teary eyes as she stared at him in disbelief as he threw horrible insults her way. He winced, his eye squeezing shut, as if the memory itself hurt him physically. 

He had to make this right. 

~~

He stepped into their shared chambers, his body rigid with nervous anticipation. He startled slightly as the sight of her was suddenly blocked, Baela having immediately got to her feet at the sight of him, standing in front of her half-sister protectively. 

“What do you think you’re doing here?” 

Aemond rolled his eye, sending a glare to the stubborn woman. 

“These are my chambers.” 

“Are they now? They haven’t seemed to be yours the past few days.” Baela responded sarcastically, forcing him to hold back a wince at the reminder of how he’d left his wife alone and worried for days on end in his fit of anger and jealousy.

He looked past Baela to find her looking back at him worriedly, wondering if this was the moment he left for good. The sight pained him deeply and he sighed heavily.

“I came here to talk.” He spoke softly, looking past her human shield, trying to appeal to his kind wife. 

“I think you’ve said plenty.” 

“Baela, it’s ok.” She said softly, hoping to stop her half-sister before she ended up in a physical fight with her husband. With how angry Baela had been on her behalf she knew it was certainly a possibility. 

Baela looked back at her questioningly, to which she nodded, silently assuring her she would be ok. 

With a sour expression, Baela left her side, her glare darkening as she passed the one eyed prince.

“If I see any more tears fall from her eyes, not even Vhagar will save you from me.” She threatened before stepping out of their chambers. 

Aemond let out a long breath. The sight of his wife upset cut him deeply, he knew he would let Baela inflict whatever pain she wanted on him if he hurt her any more. 

He looked at her, subtly wincing as he noticed she was looking away, refusing to meet his gaze. He moved forward slowly, never taking his eye off her as he approached. He sat on the opposite couch, making sure to leave space between them.

He didn’t think she’d be comfortable with anything else and he didn’t think he deserved to be so close to her, not after what he had said to her just days ago. 

“I’m sorry for what I said. I was angry and I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve my words.” He started quietly. 

She remained quiet, her gaze yet to meet his. The longer she didn’t look at him, the quicker his heart raced.

“I want to understand. I know you have no feelings for this man, but… it may kill me, but I want to know what happened between you two.”

“Why would that change things?” She asked stiffly.

“What?”

“You know I have no love for this man, you know I only care for you. So what more do you need to know?”

Aemond swallowed against the lump that grew in his throat. Aegon’s words came back to him, that her dalliance could have happened before she even knew they were to be married. 

“I need to know that I wasn’t the cause of this.”

She turned to him fully, her brows furrowed as she looked at him in bewilderment. She was sure a piece of her heart had shattered. He thought she had chosen to jump into bed with a guard because the news of her marriage to him was so horrible she was desperate to seek comfort. 

She let out a shaking breath and smoothed down the skirt of her dress. 

“Do you remember Lady Eleanor?”

Aemond looked confused for a moment at the sudden turn in conversation, but took a moment to think deeply before nodding. 

“She was your friend when we were children.” He answered softly. “I remember I could scarcely find any time with you without her presence.”

She smiled at the onslaught of memories that rushed through her mind, all hazed in the happiness of childhood innocence, though she was quick to be reminded of the grief that rose at the mere thought of her old friend. 

“She was married off to a Tully Lord. The man was older than her father. His past three wives all died mysteriously, no one dared to question why.” She explained stiffly. “I could tell from her letters that she wasn’t happy.”

Aemond watched her, frowning slightly at the dull tone of her voice, of the tortured look in her eyes, as if she was recounting something too painful to ever speak of again. He sat up straighter, longing to reach out to her, but he held back, suddenly reminding himself of the rift between them. 

“She birthed him a daughter, just as his previous wives had. The next day they found her body by the river.” She spoke quietly, her voice growing hoarse with emotion. “They could barely recognize her, she was black and blue, every bone broken by his hands.”

Aemond shifted in his seat, an unsettled feeling growing within him. He remembered the annoying little girl who followed his niece around and now felt nothing but horror at the memory of her. 

“Her husband faced no punishment. No one dared to question why yet another young girl was dead. I don’t even know what happened to the babe, if she-” She stopped abruptly, unable to finish the thought. 

Her vision blurred with tears which only began to steadily slip down her cheeks as she felt his hand take hers, their fingers intertwining. 

“His name was in consideration for my hand in marriage.” She admitted, finally bringing her gaze to reach her husband’s, immediately noticing the dread that shrouded him.

Despite the fact that they were married and had been for months, the mere prospect of her being forced into marriage with a man so barbaric left him feeling sick. 

She let out a shaking breath, pulling her hand from his as she wiped her tears furiously, forcing her expression into a mask of indifference, refusing to show him her weakness. 

“I’m sure that changes nothing for you, but I figured you should know.” She spoke hoarsely. “My night with Ser Darick meant nothing. I had no idea you were my betrothed. I thought I’d have one more night for myself before I was forced to be a silent, battered wife who would wind up dead in a matter of months.”

Aemond exhaled shakily, his gaze watching her curiously. Her sadness cut him deeply and while he could never understand the fear she felt, the fear almost every woman in the realm faced at the prospect of marriage, he couldn’t help but ache for her, for what she feared. 

The thought of her so scared, resigning herself to be abused, forced into a marriage with a man that would treat her horribly, had his hands clenching into fists, forcing back the desire to draw blood from men that weren’t even present.

“I’m sorry.” She choked out, her teary eyes finally meeting his, causing the lump in his throat to swell.

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“No, I do. I betrayed you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I acted as nothing more than a lowly street whore.” 

Aemond clenched his jaw, a flash of pain striking him deeply. His previous words he had thrown at her in anger caught up to him, hurting him as if they had been directed at himself. The guilt that overcame him was overpowering, enough to knock him off kilter, enough to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“I didn’t mean it.” He told her, his voice weak, portraying his pain.

“You said it.” 

His chest ached yet again at the sadness in her voice, her teary eyed gaze hurting him like a sword to the heart. 

“I was angry and I didn’t mean a word of what I said. I let my jealousy rule me.” He explained to her, reaching out to take her hand in his again. “But you mean more to me than my anger, you mean more to me than a single mistake.”

Her eyes narrowed, derision crossing her features, as if she didn’t believe him, as if his forgiveness was too good to be true. As she shook her head, he felt his heart crack yet again. 

“You’ve forced yourself to feel nothing but derision for me for years, I’m sure you can do it again.” She spoke tersely, her eyes betraying her hurt as they brimmed with tears. “I’ll tell my mother we wish for an annulment.”

“Stop.” He demanded angrily, looking at her with barely contained hurt.

“I’m sure your mother will be thrilled.”

“Love, please-”

“You can be married to a pure maiden within the next moon.”

“Stop!” He yelled, finally cutting off her frantic rambles. She looked at him with wide, tearful eyes, the sight causing his chest to hurt in ways he couldn’t even fathom. 

He breathed heavily for a moment, allowing his anger to fade. 

“I won’t let you end this. I care about you too much to let you go.” 

Her heart jumped at his words, her emotions beginning to stir once again. She let out a trembling breath, a glaringly bitter thought in her head she couldn’t move past from.

“Please, do not hate me for asking…” She started quietly, swallowing thickly as she looked to him hesitantly “Do you forgive me because you wish for power? Because you will one day be consort, because your heir will sit the throne?”

Aemond tensed, his gaze full of bewilderment. He had to admit, maybe in the beginning, the prospect of being consort enticed him, but now, it wasn’t even a thought in his head.

It hadn’t been since the moment she stepped out of that carriage and their eyes met for the first time in years. 

“I forgive you because I love you.” Aemond answered, as if it was the most simple explanation he could have given. 

Her breath caught in her throat, completely taken aback by his admission, one he gave freely, the genuine look in his eye making her crumble within. 

“You love me?” She choked out and he smiled sadly, the sight of her reluctance to believe it causing the ache in his chest to throb once more. He moved to sit closer to her, taking her hand in his.

“I have loved you for a long time. Much longer than I would like to admit.” He spoke with a soft laugh. “The things you did for me in our childhood…” He paused, taking in a deep breath. “Sometimes it felt like you were the only one who cared.”

She frowned, her hand holding his tightly, her heart aching to hear him so vulnerable.

“I could never turn my back on you. I could never let you walk away from our marriage, not for anything.” 

He was more than surprised when her lips descended on his with a fierce kiss, one that was filled with hunger, longing, and relief. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, responding to her kiss with equal fervor, moaning against her as her hands winded through his hair, the gesture so intimate, so familiar to their last months together. 

They pulled away, breathing heavily. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She whispered, sounding pained, as if she would have to repent for his forgiveness for the rest of her life. 

He shook his head and held her tighter. He leaned his forehead against hers, swallowing thickly against the small ounce of doubt that creeped within him.

“He truly means nothing to you?”

She seemed pained by his question, her expression twisting as she placed her hand against his cheek as she looked at him with reverence. 

“He is nothing to me. I have not had a single thought of him since I’ve loved you.” 

He perked up, his wide eye searching hers, as if looking for any sign of dishonesty. But he found none. 

He wouldn’t, for she loved him just as he loved her. 

He crashed his lips to hers, his hands holding her tightly as he pulled her onto his lap, eager to place his touch upon her and equally as eager for her greedy hands to bestow their pleasure upon him. 

He preened under her gentle caresses, her hardened tugs at his hair, her eager hips that grinded against his. He longed for everything she was willing to give him. 

He could feel the jealousy that had blinded him, that green-eyed monster that threatened to ruin it all, fade to nothing while he was in her arms. 

He would not let a single mistake tear apart what they had, what had been growing since their childhood. 

He loved her and she loved him. 

It was all he needed.

~~

They mended back together with ease. With Ser Darick transferred, no longer a glaring reminder of her indiscretion, they were able to put the incident past them. 

Her brothers questioned what had happened, why there seemed to be a rift in her marriage then, as quickly as it had come, disappeared as she and her husband soon proved themselves as a united front, more infatuated with each other than ever. 

She didn’t give them any answers. She only assured them she was happy, that Aemond treated her well and that their marriage was a success. 

They were back to the blissful, wonderstruck and obsessed couple they had been before her secret had been revealed. 

Until the dinner for the King’s nameday. 

Her arm was locked with her husband’s as they stepped into the dining hall, their smiles mirroring each other as they spoke quietly. 

Aemond suddenly stopped in his tracks, his body becoming stiff as stone. She looked up at him, her smile falling at the sight of the murderous rage in his eye. 

She followed his gaze and paled instantly, her stomach twisting with fear as she found Ser Darick’s smirking face staring back at her. She swallowed against the lump that grew in her throat and held tighter to Aemond’s arm. 

“Let’s sit.” She spoke quietly, having to basically drag him along with her to take their seats at the table. 

Aemond’s glare remained on the man as he took his seat, his eye cold and unflinching. His wife had told him about that day the guard confronted her, explaining his strange possessiveness, the harsh way he held her. 

He wanted to kill the guard the second he saw the bruises on her arms, but she held onto him tightly, begging him not to leave her alone, begging him to drop the matter completely. 

She so desperately wanted to forget the entire thing and she knew if Aemond killed him, it would invite questions she dreaded to answer. 

The fury he felt at the sight of her bruises, at how scared she had been because of that guard, hadn’t left him. He had kissed every mark on her body, though it did little to soothe the storm inside of him, the desire to draw blood from the man that dared to hurt her. 

His fingers tapped erratically atop the table, his deadly scowl never wavering from the man who smugly smirked back at him, inciting his rage. 

Her hand covered his, startling him out of his haze of anger. He looked over at her and she gave him a weak smile, her eyes pleading with him to not act on his anger. There was a look of regret in her gaze, as her guilt returned tenfold, as if she were the one angering him. 

The sight tore his anger away in an instant and he intertwined their fingers, squeezing her hand comfortingly, silently assuring her, promising her he wasn’t upset with her, that her guilt was for naught. 

“I love you.” She mouthed to him, wanting to remind him in the face of her dreaded mistake and he smiled, mouthing the words back to her. 

The days they had spent together over the past weeks were enough to heal him of the fierce jealousy that had wracked him at the news of her night with her guard. She had spent night after night worshiping him, bestowing pleasure upon him that left his mind spinning, proving to him over and over again that he was the only one she wanted, he was the only one she had eyes for, and he was the only one she would pleasure so intently. 

Their thoughts of that damned guard were gone swiftly as the King was carried into the room, the sight of his decaying and weak body stealing their attention completely. 

King Viserys smiled, a sad yet relieved looking gesture as he looked at the table full of his family, smiling faces around him, easy conversation flowing, no sight of derision or hatred he had seen just months ago that had broken his heart. 

He raised his cup of wine with a shaking hand. 

“A toast to my family.” He began with a hoarse voice. “To my daughter, Rhaenyra, who will make a fine Queen. And to my dear grandchild.”

She perked up at the sound of her name, seemingly growing bashful under the King’s eye. 

“My beautiful darling and my dear son. May your union be fruitful and prosper with a love the realm has not yet seen.” Viserys toasted them with a warm smile. “My dear you will make a wonderful Queen after your mother. You will be a fair, peaceful ruler and a wonderful mother when the time comes.”

A bitter scoff echoed through the room, causing everyone to tense, their gazes searching over the faces of those present to find the culprit. 

Her throat went dry, embarrassment washing over her as she noticed Ser Darick rolling his eyes. Beside her, Aemond stiffened, the murderous glare glinting in his eye once again. He gripped the arms of the chair he sat on, mere seconds away from getting to his feet to beat the guard into oblivion. 

“Is there a problem, Ser?” The King questioned, looking at the guard incredulously. 

Ser Darick didn’t even seem intimidated to have the attention of the most powerful man in Westeros. He seemed to preen under all their gazes, straightening his shoulders as if he were of importance. 

“Apologies for my interruption, Your Grace.” The guard began, his sickly sweet smile never wavering as his eyes landed back on the culprit of his anger, the shaken girl who seemed to shrink under his harsh gaze. 

Aemond clenched his jaw, his hand twitching, desperate to reach for the dagger at his hip.

“You are kind to dole out praises to a whore.” 

Chaos erupted in a matter of seconds. Viserys’ face darkened and he struggled to get to his feet, his voice hoarse as he called for his guards to seize Ser Darick. 

Daemon sprung to his feet, kicking his chair out of the way, his expression dark and full of hatred as he approached the dead man walking, swiftly pulling the sword from his hip. 

But it was Aemond that acted quickest. 

He ignored his wife’s warning as he got to his feet with agile precision, his steps heavy as he marched his way toward the guard. He pulled the dagger from his belt, his teeth grit as he stared the man down with nothing but pure hatred. 

With a swift kick to Ser Darick's hand, Aemond disarmed him before he could pull his sword. Aemond gripped the front of his armor, dragging him forward harshly and swiftly plunged his dagger into the man’s neck without hesitation. 

Gasps and screams sounded behind him at the violent display, but he paid no mind to it. 

He watched with satisfaction as the man’s eyes went dull, the life leaving him slowly as he bled out, finally erasing the smug smile from his face. 

He eased his grip, letting him drop to the floor. 

He turned, coming face to face with Daemon, who had his sword drawn and at the ready. His uncle eyed the dead guard at their feet, with slight disdain for the mere fact that he hadn’t been the one to end his life, before slowly raising his gaze to him, staring at him for a long moment before nodding, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. 

Aemond nodded back, a dark and twisted respect blooming between them in that moment. 

He turned, ignoring the chaos that continued as his family watched on in horror and confusion, a mix of questions, admonishments him for his brashness, praises for his actions, but he heard none of it.

He stepped towards his trembling wife and quickly guided her into his arms, holding her tightly. 

Her eyes were wide, shocked by the violent display, though she couldn’t deny the immediate relief that coursed through her. 

“Thank you.” She whispered shakily.

Aemond pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his arms tightening around her, his silent promise to always protect her. 

~~

Hope you enjoy and sorry it's so long, I can't stop myself xx

[rainrot4me]

Do You Think About Her?

Summary: Jeff liked to tease Toby about his lack of experience with women. So when coming home from a mission with the two, you decide to tell Jeff off, spurring him into a jealous fit to see how far he can push you both.

Characters: Jeff the Killer & Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Teasing, Toby is inexperienced, Jeff’s an asshole, fingering, eating out, embarrassment, dub-con, blowjob, fucking in/on a truck, voyeurism, double penetration, vaginal, slight power struggle

Words: 5.0k

Jeff was known to make Toby the brunt of his jokes.

Whenever the twitching boy would stutter too much or laugh a little too hard, Jeff was always quick to jump on his ass and say something. Whether Toby took the remarks seriously or not, the pale killer never let up.

So whenever Toby accidentally let it slip that the farthest he had ever gotten with a girl was a blowjob, the whole mansion groaned with the frequency Jeff brought it up. Whenever he got a chance to embarrass the brunette you best believe he was going to, despite your belief that Toby could easily lay his ass out but just chose not to.

You had been sleeping around with Jeff for a while, the horny killer always willing to show you a good time whenever you asked for it. But that also meant dealing with his obnoxious mouth, and whatever bullshit insults he had conjured that day. So when you got wind of Jeff’s hounding on the boy, your heart ached. You and Toby were about the same age, and your backstories for how you ended up under Slender’s care were more or less the same. Bad home life turned murderous. There was a sense of familiarity in him, so you couldn’t just let your obnoxious fuck buddy run his mouth without you saying something.

“Listen, Jeff.” You groaned, curling your legs under you in the passenger seat of his old truck, heading back to the mansion after a particularly aggravating mission. Jeff eyed you, head propped on his fist as he leaned against the open window, the cool night air wafting in as he drove down the familiar back roads. Toby sat quietly in the back seat, staring out the window as his brown curls swayed in the wind. Slender had assigned the three of you together, apparently unaware of the high tensions between the two boys. It just made completing the mission that much more difficult. “You’ve gotta lay off Toby. The poor kids gonna cut your head off if you don’t quit talking about his dick.” You mumbled, staring at the dense trees flying by. Jeff groaned, sitting back against his seat as he turned a sharp curve, cringing at you. A slow rock song mumbled through the radio, the atmosphere nice besides the sour mood in the truck.

“Ain’t my fault the stutter’s practically a virgin.” He laughed dryly, looking into the rearview mirror and catching Toby’s nasty look at him, neck jerking. You were assigned some bullshit job to take out a couple of guys who vandalized the mansion, how they ever got that close and lived you had no idea. But with Toby bickering with Jeff’s snarky attitude, it was nearly impossible for them to focus. Two hours longer than it should have taken, you were finally headed back to the mansion, praying to get away from the two. 

“Don’t be acting like you weren’t a virgin before I came along.” You huffed, turning to catch Toby snickering lowly, looking back out the window quickly before Jeff could see. Jeff grits his teeth, rolling his eyes as he leans forward, staring daggers at you. “Oh, come on now. You’re talking real big for someone that begs for me to fuck them once a week.” He snarled, reaching his arm across the console and gripping your thigh tightly, glancing between you and the road. Toby was still laughing quietly, amused by the bickering not focused on him for once. But this time Jeff heard him, whipping his wide eyes around quickly to laugh at the boy. “No fucking way the virgin’s laughing!” He hollered, throwing his head back as he laughed annoyingly, just loud enough to prove a point. You slapped his arm, pushing his hand off your thigh as you hissed.

“Jeff.”

He rolled his eyes, glancing between you and the rearview mirror, snarling at Toby. The brunette just stared awkwardly between you two, back pressed flush against the seat as you turned to look back at him, nodding your apology. Toby smiled at you, his cheek twitching at the movement. But as you turned back forward, Jeff’s pale face sat shocked and angry as he glanced between the two of you. You glared at him, but that felt all too much as he faced forward quickly, shoving the wheel to the left and throwing the truck off the road, pulling next to the thick treeline and slamming on the brakes. You yelped, bracing your hands on the dash as he threw the truck in park and shut the engine off, the low rock song still beating through the old speakers. Toby cursed, groaning as he pushed himself off of Jeff’s seat and shook his head.

Before you could berate the pale killer, he was already throwing open his door, jumping out and quickly shoving the back door open as well. You watched as Toby struggled frantically against him, punching his shoulders as Jeff hauled him from the truck and onto the grass below. You yelled, throwing open your door and dodging to the opposite side of the truck. Jeff was already on top of the boy, loud grunts and curses ringing as they pushed against each other, fists flying and grappling the other. Toby was holding him off, but with Jeff holding his knee on his stomach, there was little Toby could do to fight him off. They were throwing their palms into each other’s faces, pushing their necks and nearly hurting themselves. So you yelled, instincts thrown as you gripped Jeff by his messy hair, tugging him back by the head until he was hissing. 

As you pulled him off of the smaller boy, you beat his chest with your fist, furious. “What the fuck are you doing?!” You snarled, pushing his chest back against the side of the truck with a loud thud. Thankfully this road was practically abandoned, nobody having any reason to travel back this far unless it was a hunting season, so no one just saw the throwdown that you just broke up. Toby panted behind you, your body standing between the two so Jeff had no choice but to focus on your angry face. “Fu- fuckin’ psycho…” Toby grits, spitting onto the ground as he sits up on his elbows. You still stared at Jeff, your questioning expression enough to make him groan. 

When Toby began to cough, you turned, reaching an arm out to help him stand. You gave him a once over, making sure Jeff hadn’t done any serious damage as you hauled him up. He was slightly taller than you, his goofy smile thankful as he pulled his mask down under his chin, wiping the dirt from his cheek. You sighed, turning back to Jeff and glaring, but getting caught off guard by his disgusted expression. Jeff towered over the both of you, his nasty scowl making you worried. 

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you two were fuckin’.” Jeff growled, pushing off the truck and shouldering the two of you apart, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets and staring into the woods. Toby and you awkwardly glanced at each other, the brunette stepping out of the way as you shuffled to Jeff’s side. “Jeff. You’re being unreasonable.” You grit, shoving his shoulder as he glanced at you, groaning. But he turned back to Toby, glaring daggers at the boy until he glanced back at you, a small smirk appearing on his sullen face. The pale killer shuffled to Toby’s side, throwing his arm around the boy’s shoulders, making him flinch away. Jeff held his head tight against his side, making the boy stare through his messy hair at you as you nervously watched. “Tell me, twitch. You ever thought about my girl before? While you’re jerkin’ it, maybe?”

There was a nasty grin on Jeff’s face as you blushed, crossing your arms as the brunette stared at the ground. Jeff didn't appreciate the silence so he hauled Toby’s head up, gripping him by the back of the hair and making his eyes face you. “Jeff-”

“Ah, ah. I’m asking him.” Jeff cut you off, nudging Toby by his side until his shoulders twitched under the pressure. “Whaddya say, Toby?” You glanced nervously between the two, both of their eyes on you as you waited for either an answer or for Jeff to shove off. Music still thumped from the truck, the cool night air blowing your hair gently until there were goosebumps on your skin.  Toby’s eyes frantically glanced between you and the ground, his freckled cheeks a dark tint as he searched for an answer. You had no idea what had gotten into Jeff, but you were growing tired and more embarrassed by the second. Toby closed his eyes, shaking his head as Jeff scoffed, shoving him back to the ground

“I guess we’ll just find out then, huh?” Jeff smiled wildly, stepping over Toby to move to you, your body subconsciously taking a step back before pale hands wrapped around your waist, pushing you in front of him. Jeff stood flush behind you, hands on your hips as he looked down at Toby, the brunette perched against the rear tire of the truck. You pushed against Jeff's hands, protesting lightly as he hugged around your waist, nudging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing lightly, keeping his eyes on Toby the whole time. You groaned, trying to squirm away from his grasp as he nibbled on your neck, kissing small pecks up your jaw and to your ear. Your cheeks grew hot, anxiously glancing between Jeff and Toby, the brunette’s eyes having a hard time looking away from you as Jeff ravaged the side of your face. 

You stifled a groan when Jeff’s cool hands slid under your shirt, pressing light touches against your skin. You gasped, tugging your shirt down as his arms pushed the fabric up, panicking against him. “Jeff- Stop-” You huffed, tugging at his arms, but the pale killer only laughed, nibbling behind your ear as he watched Toby carefully become flustered. You glanced at the brunette, his cheeks dark and knees pressed close to his chest, unable to do anything but watch you fidget under pale arms. Jeff was making a spectacle out of you, teasing the poor boy at your expense. But there was little you could do as he tugged your shirt up, despite your protests.

When he got your shirt over your head, you could literally see the panic in Toby’s eyes. You screwed your eyes shut, whining as Jeff reached behind to unclip your bra and tug it off your shoulders. The brunette was quick to look down, finding your feet inches away from him far more interesting. Jeff didn’t appreciate that, taking your tits in his hands and kneading roughly. “Oh, don’t get shy now, twitch. You gotta own up to how much of a pervert you are.” The killer smiled, pinching your nipples until he heard you hiss, your cheeks hot and breath heavy. 

“The o- only pervert here is yo- you, Jeff…” Toby grunted, eyes glancing up quickly to your tits but back down nervously as he caught the fingers on them. You desperately tugged on Jeff’s hoodie sleeves, teeth gritted as he finally let go and ran his hands down your waist. His cool hands were quick to unbutton your jeans, pushing his hand past your waistline and down into your panties. You yelped, grabbing at his arm and begging the perverted hand out, Jeff only groaning. “Oh, stop acting like you don’t fuckin’ love this, babe.” He hissed in your ear, gripping your wrists and tugging them behind your back, his left hand securing them between his body as his right reentering your panties. You whined, hips bucking frantically as his thick fingers slid between your folds, pushing your wetness onto the digits. Jeff chuckled lowly, pressing his right knee between your legs and forcing your thighs open as his fingers prodded against your clit. 

Toby couldn’t look away now, his flushed cheeks dark as his eyes widened. He was twitching frantically, his neck jerking against the mental override he was experiencing. You stared at him through heavy eyes, embarrassment tugging at your stomach as you begged the boy to look away. Jeff was always one for proving a point no matter the expense, so as he pushed his fingers into your entrance, stretching you wide, he was quick to snap at the brunette. 

“Well look at that, twitch. You ever fingered a girl before? Ever made her squirm this much?” Jeff teased, Toby’s head shaking slowly as his lips fell open, his eyes refusing to look anywhere else. Your arms protested against Jeff, but his strong grip held both of them easily, keeping your chest out and ass pressed back against him. His bulge was already evidently, his psychotic personality getting him excited at your struggle. His thick fingers curled inside of you, pushing little whines and hisses from your lips until you were hunched over, gasping as pleasure racked your cunt. Jeff was chuckling against your neck, nibbling on the skin and leaving little red marks wherever his teeth grazed. It made you whine, your eyes growing heavy and your face hot as you were forced to face Toby, hunched over so your face was right above his. A cool palm nudged against your clit, making your hips grind down and relish in the friction. Toby was so lost in the scene, his knees rubbing together nervously as he glanced quickly between your flushed face and Jeff’s hands shoved into your pants. His bulge was evident against his jeans, his hands gripping the grass below him as he nudged his thighs together, desperately trying to grasp at some sort of friction. 

Jeff ground his hips into your clothed ass, his bulge rubbing against you as he huffed against your neck. “Come on, tell the boy how good you feel.” He grunted, slotting his thick fingers in and out of your cunt quickly, your hips bucking against his palm. He was pulling gasps from you, every curl of his fingers making you mewl your pleasure. Your embarrassment had faded, excitement coursing through you as Toby began to palm himself through his jeans, his hitched groans making you whine as you locked eyes. “Ah… Jeff…” You groaned through gritted teeth when his thick fingers pressed deep against your walls, gushing your arousal around his cool fingers. The killer chuckled, letting your wrists go to snap onto your hip, pulling your hips back so he could grind into your ass easier. You felt your stomach knotting, your hips stuttering against his fingers as you began to whine, biting your cheek. “Toby…” Toby gasped under you, eyes wide as he ground into his hand, mesmerized by you. Eyes locked, you could feel yourself close to that familiar edge, chasing Jeff’s fingers as they curled deep. 

But as if he could sense it, Jeff tugged his fingers out of your warm walls, sliding them out of your pants and chucking wickedly as you whined. You were shocked, hips still bucking as he held your hips, refusing to let you move. You were teetering on that lovely edge, so close to getting off but so quickly stripped of that feeling that you could’ve cried. 

Jef tugged your pants down, pulling your damp panties with them until you kicked them off your ankles. You were completely exposed to the cool air, goosebumps riddling your skin as Jeff bent down, hooking his hands under your knees and tugging you up quickly. Your back was pressed flush against his chest, laying all your weight as your held your knees apart, your throbbing cunt face first with Toby’s face. You whined loudly, hands reaching back to grip Jeff’s messy hair as your cheeks grew dark, eyes pleading as you stared at the boy under you. “Go on. Make her cum.” Jeff commanded, holding you up easily as he watched Toby, beckoning the nervous boy. 

The brunette sat up unsurely, climbing onto his knees as he watched your dark face. He stripped his jacket, letting it fall to the ground behind him as he pressed closer, heavy breath brushing against your sensitive folds. You whined, hips trying to buck to his face but Jeff’s hands holding you still, tsking. “Go on, twitch.” Toby nodded nervously, sliding his fingers up to press your folds apart, eyes flinching to your face worriedly when you gasped. His freckled face looked so cute under you, his goggles pushing his bangs off his forehead and letting you see the flushed skin as he pushed closer. His tongue pressed first, licking a thick stripe between your folds before his soft lips pressed in, sucking on your sensitive clit. Jeff growled, pushing your hips closer to the brunette as you moaned, throwing your head back against his shoulder. “Oh, God-” You hummed, eyes slamming shut as Toby flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud. 

Your back arched against Jeff, fingers gripping his hair tight as you rutted against the warm tongue lapping at your arousal. Toby spread your lips with his fingers, flattening his tongue against your entrance as humming against you. He pushed further, slipping his tongue into your warmth and making you groan, your hand instantly shooting down to rub your clit and push you close. Toby’s eyes stayed hooded, watching eagerly as your fingers brushed against his nose, his tongue shoved into your cunt. “Le- Let me…” He grunted, sliding his hand up to shove yours away and take its place, slowly circling your clit with the pads of his fingers. You could barely breathe through all the gasps and whines that spilt from your lips, Jeff’s fingernails gripping your leg as he watched the scene unfold. He was smiling and huffing his arousal, teeth nibbling against your ear as he pushed your hips against Toby’s tongue, pulling your knees back further to give the brunette more access. “Does his tongue feel good, babe? You gonna cum on his face?” Jeff cooed, rutting his hips up against your bare ass as Toby lapped at your cunt, eyes fluttering shut as he tried to push deeper.

Nodding frantically, you could already feel yourself clamping down, Jeff’s lewd words making your core twitch as fingers rubbed against your clit. “Toby-” You whined, bucking your hips up as you felt your orgasm crash into you. Toby was quick to hold your hips, burying his face deeper into your cunt as he soaked up your arousal on his tongue, groaning at the taste. Jeff growled, teeth digging into your shoulder as Toby’s fingers rubbed your orgasm out, your thighs trying to twitch shut. When you finally breathed deep, Toby slipped his tongue out, hooded eyes gazing at your hot face, your cheeks flushed and sweaty. He smiled goofily, fingers spreading your soaked lips as he admired your still throbbing cunt, palming himself. Jeff slowly let your legs down, hooking his arm around your waist when your knees buckled from your sensitivity. 

“Damn, Toby…” He groaned, unzipping his jeans and freeing his heavy cock, the tip already smeared with pre. The pale killer gripped you to his side, staring down at the brunette still on his knees as he began to fist his length lazily. Toby sat back on his calves, eyes flicking nervously as he watched Jeff tug you towards the truck, pressing his back against the door and holding you in front of him. Toby stood awkwardly, fidgeting his hands as he watched Jeff push you back, gripping his hands around your head and bringing your mouth to his cock. You didn’t even think, mouth opening almost on instinct as you bent at the waist, bracing your hands against his thighs and taking the twitching length in your mouth like you had done it a thousand times before. Jeff sighed, gripping your hair into a ponytail and bobbing you slowly as he began to talk. 

“You wanna fuck her?” He grinned, grunting as you moaned your approval around his girth. Toby gasped quietly, eyes focused on watching you take Jeff so easily as his cock throbbed against his jeans. Jeff spread his legs wider, pressing his shoulders back against the glass of the door and cupping your cheek, forcing you to bury your face onto his cock, gagging against him. The pale killer groaned, eyeing Toby expectantly as the brunette nodded, his nervousness fading as he watched you submit to Jeff so easily. He wanted that. He wanted you to want him that way. 

Toby had always thought you were cute, his aggravation with Jeff spreading when the killer claimed you for his use. Toby thought the guy was ungrateful for such a pretty girl as you, wishing it was him who was dragging you upstairs to his room after a bad day. The bad thing about all living in the same hallway was the lack of noise privacy, so every time Toby heard your little whines echoing against his wall, there was little he could do against his straining arousal. 

But now, with your hips in the air and your cunt so beautifully waiting, Toby would show you. Despite his lack of experience, the brunette had watched enough porn to know what he wanted, to know exactly how he needed to treat you. The boy nodded, unzipping his jeans and sliding behind you, awkwardly gripping your hips. Your back muscles twitched and pulsed as you strained to bob at the pace Jeff was wanting you to go, the killer’s dark eyes grinning as he watched Toby nervously slip out his cock. The tip was red and leaking, twitching desperately as the brunette bent his knees, angling his head to press between your soft folds and find your entrance. You gasped, immediately pressing back against him but Jeff’s hands held your head, giving you little room to move as you slobbered on his length. 

The killer was being possessive, inspecting the brunette's every move as he pushed into you slowly, watching your expressions for any sign that you weren’t enjoying it. You moaned around his cock, tongue flattening against the underside and flicking against the gaudy veins that ran up it. Jeff huffed, relishing in the way your slobber pooled at the sides of your mouth as you screwed your eyes shut, focusing on not choking on his girth. But he wanted you to. He wanted to put on a good show for the kid. 

Placing his hands on either side of your head, he thrust quickly into the heat of your mouth, head knocking against the back of your throat and making you gag. He smiled, pulling back to the head before slamming back in, trying his best to pull any noises he could from your constricted throat. 

Toby watched carefully, mouth hanging lazily as he bottomed out inside of you. You were so warm, the heat swallowing him impossibly tight as he struggled not to move. His cock wasn’t as long as Jeff’s, but fuck did it still stretch you so good. You ground your hips back, moaning at the way the boy’s nails dug into your hips desperately. You had already ruined porn for him, your cunt gripping him the way his fist never could. He was already hooked. “God… O- Oh my god…” Toby gasped, shallowly thrusting into your cunt and drooling at the way your entrance tugged against him every time he pulled out. You were so pretty, your flushed skin warm under his scarred fingers, he couldn’t help but knead your ass apart as he ground into you.

In your opinion, the two boys were so impossibly different. Jeff was an ego trip, dick thinking before his brain did and making him a cocky little bitch who loved to show off. But Toby, on the other hand, was an awkward kid whose brain ran faster than the rest of him. It made him sensitive, but so dangerously impulsive at the same time. But right now, with their cocks buried on either side of you, their differences were even more prominent. Jeff was rough and loud, even on his best days caring only if you ended up babbling his name out of overstimulation. But Toby was nervous, inexperienced and trying his best to fulfill those urges he so desperately had. It was dizzying how differently they treated you.

You ground back against Toby, arching your back against his small thrusts and begging him to dare faster. He panted behind you, neck twitching and face contorting with every stretch he could feel inside of you. “Faster, twitch,” Jeff grunted, angling his cock in your mouth so he could fuck your throat, smiling at the way you gurgled on your spit. Toby hesitated for a minute, looking at the killer unsurely. 

“She wants you to go, ah, faster.” He hissed, snapping his hips as you gripped his jeans, begging for air. After so much time sleeping around, Jeff could read your body language like a book. It was beyond annoying, especially when he could tell you were aroused despite your bickering that you weren’t. But in this case, you thanked him by pressing your head down further, pushing your nose into his pubes. 

Toby nodded frantically, spreading his feet wider so he could angle himself up, slowly snapping his hips faster. He gripped your hips, his fingerless gloves nipping against your skin until you were whining loudly, gut-clenching in pleasure as his cock nudged against your g-spot. You arched your back, letting the brunette groan and hiss his pleasure behind you as you thrust your hips back, matching his pace. It wasn’t long before he was ramming into you, skin snapping loudly as he gave in and abandoned his nervousness. Jeff was eager too, nearly matching the brunette’s pace as he forced his cock down your throat, only pulling back every so often so you could suck on the head and catch your breath. “So- So warm…”

Jeff grits his teeth, challenging the twitching boy opposite of him as he stares daggers through his hooded eyes. “You gonna cum, twitch? Gonna spill in her?” Jeff was teasing him, the killer’s own orgasm quick on his heels as he slipped out of your mouth, slapping the wet length against your cheek. You were gasping, whines mixing as Toby snapped his hips, hissing. “I- I, ah, can’t-” He whined, your walls clamping against his aching cock, milking him quickly. Jeff grinned, popping his cock back in your mouth and letting you suck on the head while he talked. “Sure you can. Had her on the pill for a while now. Get to fill her cunt full whenever I want.” 

It was true. Jeff was so insanely horny that he had opted for stealing birth control pills from the pharmacy off the highway nearby just so he didn’t have to pull out. But you couldn’t complain, cumming around a cock was heavenly. 

Toby stared wide-eyed, a new fire igniting in him as he pressed his hands around your waist and began to slam his hips brutally. You yelped, eyes rolling as the boy thrust deeply into you, his teeth gritted and grunting. Jeff laughed wickedly, tugging your chin down with his thumb as he pushed his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, grunting as he matched Toby’s pace in your throat. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight when Toby gripped your hips and hauled you up, your feet leaving the ground. He hunched over you, breathing raggedly as he fucked up into your cunt, squelching and slapping loud in your ears. 

It was all too much, so many sensations and so full your body couldn’t resist itself anymore. You buried your around Jeff’s cock as you came, eyes rolling hard as your cunt clamped down against the unfamiliar girth. Your legs were spasming, feet kicking in the air as Toby moaned, digging his nails deep. 

They both buried in you at the same time, their ragged moans and loud breathing making your gut twist as you felt warm seed spilling into you. You tried to swallow quickly, choking on the salty liquid as Jeff hunched over you, gripping your head tight in his pale hands. Toby’s cock twitched inside of you, knees shaking as he let himself spill into your warmth. Jeff pulled out first, letting his leaking head rest against your swollen lips as tears spilt down your cheeks, your mind so hazy you couldn’t breathe straight. He chuckled, hooking his hands under your armpits and tugging you up against his chest, Toby slipping out of you with a groan. You panted against Jeff’s shoulder, eyes heavy and cunt throbbing as he picked you up and snapped at Toby to grab your clothes. 

So when Toby climbed into the passenger seat and Jeff sat you sideways on his lap, tugging you close to his chest, you breathed deep. Toby’s bangs were stuck against his forehead from the sweat, his red freckled cheeks watching you so closely as he ran his hand between your thighs, your head falling onto his shoulder as he fingered his cum inside of you. Jeff grinned as he started the truck, hauling it back onto the road and speeding towards the mansion, occasionally reaching over to press his thick fingers in with Toby’s and make you cry. The brunette pressed his chin against your head, rubbing your clit as Jeff’s fingers pressed Toby’s cum deep into your cunt, tugging yet another orgasm out of you as the same slow rock music pounded against the speakers. 

You could barely think as they dressed you, pulled up to the mansion and hauled you inside, Toby carrying you to your room and setting you between them as they cleaned you up. Jeff still bickered with Toby, rolling your eyes as you slipped into sleep below them. 

But as the weeks passed and Toby began showing up at your door with that pleading look in his eyes as frequently as Jeff, there was little you could do to resist. Even when the two showed up together, scheming some new position they wanted to try and arguing the whole time, your heart fluttered.

So when their sharp words turned to breathy groans, you realized that maybe the only way they could stand each other was if you were distracting them, giving them something better to focus on.

This is a birthday present for @carmoronic! Live it up!!!!

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